


We Have a Guest!

by archdukefranzferdinand



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-14 19:57:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archdukefranzferdinand/pseuds/archdukefranzferdinand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the TARDIS lands in Sherlock's bedroom the Doctor and Amy take him traveling with them. He only stays with them for a short time, but five years later they come back; this time Sherlock takes a friend along for the fun. But the fun is soon over when Moriarty sends some bombs and murder cases their way! Can Sherlock solve the cases in time and keep John, or will he have to choose?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Sherlock looked around, taking in every single detail of the seemingly-magical room he just entered.

"But Doctor, my mother, my brother, they will see the Blue Box. Mycroft will be curious, he will come looking for me. He will find us, he will know! He always knows." He looked to the tall, scrawny man stand before him who now had a goofy-looking smile plastered on his face.

"Oh, look at you! A mad man drops out of the sky with a magic blue box, says it's time machine and you go on and follow him. Sherlock Holmes, eleven years old, yet still as genius and curious as ever! Brilliant!" The Doctor shouted, clapping his hands together before twirling around and smashing his fist down repeatedly on a flashing orange button. "Oh, Amelia! We have a guest!" Sherlock, no longer standing near the doorway, was circling around the control room, taking in the TARDIS and all her beauty.

"A guest?" A Scottish voice carried throughout the TARDIS, making it unclear which direction the voice was coming from, but then he saw her. Tall and skinny, with flaming hair, a round face and pale skin. "What d'you mean a- Oh, hey there." She shot a glance at the Doctor, who was now running around the control pressing buttons and pulling levers like the mad man he is. "I'm Amy. So what's your name then?" He looked her up and down a few times, as though sizing her up, before standing up straight and looking her in the eyes. He remembered what Mycroft had told him some time ago, Everyone is an enemy until they prove to be an ally.

"Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes."

"Well then, Sherlock Holmes, what year is this?" He gave her an incredulous look. Surely, this was a dream. They couldn't really expect him to believe this was a time machine. But, when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

"It is the year 1988."

"Oh, Doctor, you're no fun. I'm not even born yet!" She said with a pout. Not born yet? This had to be a joke.

"Is Mycroft behind this? Did he put you two up to this to mock me?" His brother is the only person who would do this to him. He was still angry about Sherlock borrowing his umbrella. He didn't mean to set fire to it. It was only an experiment.

But the Doctor looked oddly hurt by his accusation. Who was this Mycroft? The Doctor will have to visit him in a few years, figure out why Sherlock was so suspicious of him. He was about to ask Sherlock why Mycroft would do such a thing but Amy beat him to it.

"No, no Sherlock. I don't even know who Mycroft is, the Doctor doesn't either. Or, well he's never mentioned him before." She reached down, hesitating slightly before placing a hand on his arm, but he shrank away from her touch with a look of disgust, very obviously unused to physical contact. What kind of child was disgusted with human contact like that? She frowned at the thought and looked to the Doctor. The sadness in his eyes nearly broke her heart. She wanted desperately to gain this boys trust. What would an eleven year old want to see? "Say Sherlock, what do you want to be when you grow up?" He looked up at her with a new, gleaming excitement in his eyes that had been, so far, absent.

"A pirate! Oh, I want to be a pirate very badly! Or a detective! Or a pirate detective! Pirates are my favourite, they don't have any rules to follow, or dance classes to go to, or boring dinner parties to attend for Mother. They don't have to behave properly ever, and can do whatever they want, and they have lots of friends and family that love them.." He broke off suddenly, flushing. Amy and the Doctor felt a wave of sadness for this poor, lonely little boy. But the Doctor jumped at the Sherlock's words, this was how he could get Sherlock to trust them. "And why do you want to be a detective?"

"Well, I'm good at solving puzzles. I observe things and I make deductions based on my observations."

"Oh ho, you are brilliant! You really are." Sherlock flushed again, and Amy giggled at the Doctors reaction. It was an amused giggle, so unlike the mocking laughter Sherlock was used to. He allowed a small smile to show, but it grew larger as her laughter grew louder once the Doctor had begun to do a little "happy dance".

"Well, Sherlock Holmes, I'll tell you, I've met pirates! And Amy was a pirate for a very, very short while. And they were the best pirates I've ever known! And, at times, we can be something like detectives. And I think I can say we've made a rather fun job out of it." The Doctor and Amy both laughed lightly at their memories.

Sherlock eye's darted between the pair, looking for even the smallest hint of a lie, of denial. When he found none, he allowed his smile to grow even wider still. He liked to hear his two new friends laugh. The realization startled him slightly, the casual thought of having friends was alien but not unpleasant to him.

"Though, Sherlock, the Doctor and I, we haven't been entirely truthful." Amy spoke softly, hoping that Sherlock wouldn't jump to the wrong conclusions too fast. "See, this isn't just a time machine. The TARDIS is the Doctor's space ship too." Sherlock jaw went slack as he stared at Amy in disbelief. A time machine/space ship? The Doctor pulled one last lever and stepped forward to Amy and Sherlock.

"So, Sherlock Holmes, all of time and space, everything that ever happened or ever will, where do you wanna start?"

\------------------

"Doctor, how will have we been travelling together?" Sherlock asked quietly. The three of them were lounging in the control room, piles and piles of books surrounding them. The Doctor looked up from his Harry Potter book for a moment before setting it down next to him.

"About three months, why?" The Doctor already knew the answer to his question and the fact that Sherlock's eyes were glued to the floor was just a confirmation. Amy stopped reading as well, she had been expecting this. Recently Sherlock had seemed lost in his own thoughts. She knew he thought he ought to go back home.

"I don't want to go back, Doctor, but I have to. Mycroft will now that I'm older, even if by just three months. He'll know. He always knows." Sherlock brought his knees up to his chest. Stupid Mycroft. He always got in the way of things, always ruined Sherlock's fun.

"I'll take you back. You'll only have been gone five minutes to everyone else. No one will even notice you were gone." The Doctor's sadness was obvious in his voice and it was mirrored in Amy's eyes. They had both grown rather close to Sherlock, gotten used to his small tantrums, his sarcasm, and his omniscient personality. But he was right. If Mycroft was anywhere near as intelligent as Sherlock was, he would be able to note Sherlock's, physical and mental, growth. Sherlock had to go home.

The trio sat in silence as the Doctor set the date and coordinates for Sherlock's bedroom, five minutes after they had left. When the TARDIS came to a lurching halt, Amy was the first to rise, pulling Sherlock into a tight hug and kissing him on the head. Sherlock held onto her tightly with the knowledge that he may never see her again. When they finally pulled away from each other, she placed a hand on his cheek and laughed quietly, tears threatening to fall. Sherlock couldn't stop the small, sad smile from growing slightly. He would miss Amy dearly, she had come to be like a sister to him. He slowly turned to the Doctor, who was staring at the ground with tears in his eyes.

"Will you tell anyone, tell them our stories? 'Cause they were great you know. We were something spectacular, the three of us." Amy turned her head away slightly, trying to wipe her eyes and hide a slight sniffle. "But who can I tell, Doctor? Who will believe me?"

Amy had been thinking about this, long and hard, trying to remember the name when it finally came to her. "Watson. Harriet Watson." She spoke quietly, almost to herself, and started again, louder. "Harriet Watson. She had a fling for a while with Mels, right when we were leaving high school. She has a brother though, John. They're five years apart, so if Harry was 27 then, she'd be about 8 right now, and John would be about 13!" She grasped Sherlock's arms suddenly, teary-eyed and smiling down at him, he couldn't help but smile back at her. "Sherlock, John was the sweetest boy, he was patient, loyal and kind and he's exactly the type of friend you need. The type of friend you'll be able to keep with you! It's perfect!" Sherlock looked sceptical of a real person wanting to be friends with him, especially someone 2 years older than him. What if this John Watson wasn't how she remembered him being? He supposed all he could do was hope for the best. They looked back up to the Doctor, who was now unashamedly crying. He looked like a proud father, watching his two children- and Sherlock thought that maybe in the Doctor's mind that's exactly how it was. He wondered if he would ever be able to find another father figure as the Doctor has been.

"But Sherlock, remember this always, it is of the utmost importance. If you do befriend John and tell him of us and our adventures, he can never tell anyone, especially not his sister, not if she's going to meet Amy. Because if he does, everything could change and none of this might happen. Do you understand?" The Doctor said, his tone unusually serious. But after Sherlock nodded emphatically, the playful tone came back once more. "Alright come on then, one last group hug." He shouted happily, pulling his small family into a tight hug. "Don't ever forget about us, Sherlock. This is not our last adventure."

"Will you come back, Doctor? In five years time, come back on this exact date to this exact spot. I will make sure I'm here. Maybe, I'll even bring John with me. But be here, please? I need you to prove that this actually happened. That when I step out of this box, I won't be waking up from a dream. Please, promise me this?" Sherlock's voice was so small, it reminded the Doctor of when they first met, how Sherlock had doubted Amy and himself, thinking it all to be a joke.

"I promise you Sherlock. We'll be here." The Doctor said ruffling Sherlock's hair, one last time before opening the doors to the TARDIS, revealing Sherlock's bedroom.

He walked slowly to the open door, turned in the door way to wave at his friends for what will be the last time for five, long years. Tears now streamed down both Amy and the Doctor's face as they smiled and waved back at him before he close the door and watched to TARDIS disappear.

He sighed quietly, before curling up on his bed, refusing to let the tears fall.

\------------------

The next morning, Sherlock grudgingly asked Mycroft to look up the address of John Watson and bring him there. He knew Mycroft was curious as to why this random stranger was so important but was silent on the drive to the Watson's home. When they arrived, Sherlock jumped out of the car, and knocked on the door, asking a small girl, Harry, if John was home. A short boy with sandy blonde hair and slightly thick, muscular build came to the door, confusion etched clear on his face. "Hello, er, sorry who are you?"

Sherlock looked the boy up and down before offering his hand, "Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes. Do you like mystery stories?"

"Yes..?" John answered hesitantly. He had no idea what this boy wanted with him.

"Well then I've got some stories you'll find hard to believe." Sherlock smiled at John, and John smiled warmly back at him. It seems Amy was right about him.


	2. Chapter Two

5 Minutes Later

"But Amy, don't you think we should wait? Maybe make a stop at Zoig or see the Romans! You love Romans!" It was a weak attempt to try and make her change her mind. The moment Sherlock had closed the TARDIS doors, she demanded that he took them to five years from now. "It won't be fair to Sherlock if he has to wait five years to see us and we only wait five minutes! What will we tell him? He's not exactly the most patient person. Deciding to wait for five years will be difficult for him."

"But Doctor! He'll understand, he will! Don't you think he'd do the same thing in our position. Do you think he would wait before going to see us?" Her voice was thick and raw from crying and desperation was clear in her voice. Her need, her love for this boy had become so strong in the three months they were together. The two shared such a bond, that you would think they had been together their entire lives. The Doctor forced himself to look away, fiddling with the controls once more. He couldn't bear to see her in so much pain. They had only been separated for five minutes. What would happen when Sherlock decided to stop travelling with them for good? "Please, Doctor..I miss him." Amy was so quiet the Doctor had nearly missed her saying anything.

He sighed quietly. "Yes, fine alright, I understand. But we have to make one quick stop first."

"Thank you Doctor! Where are we going?" She hugged him tightly and beamed at him. He couldn't help but smile back.

\------------------

5 Years Later

"Sherlock, we've been in here for hours. I'm starving. Can we please just go get something to eat. We can come right back, won't be gone ten minutes." John whined and his friend shot him a glare before refocusing on the middle of his room. He hadn't seen Sherlock look so excited in months, and that was due to the fact that he had successfully smuggled a pig liver out of John's Anatomy class. For an experiment, John. You can't deny science. Him and his damn experiments. For the past five years, Sherlock had talked Johns ear off about the Doctor, Amy, and their adventures together. It had taken John about three weeks to realize that the random little kid that showed up on his door step wasn't all that crazy, and another month to finally believe Sherlock about the Doctor. When Sherlock finally revealed how he knew to find John, John found himself looking for Amelia Pond until Sherlock had told him not to bother, saying that right now she was only a toddler but that she'd meet him when she was getting out of high school. At the time, Sherlock saying that she would meet him instead of saying he would meet her seemed odd, but now it made sense. Sherlock was completely convinced that the Doctor would come back on this day, but they had been sitting on Sherlock's bed just staring into the middle of his room for at least 9 hours now, and while his room had an attached bathroom, it didn't have an attached kitchen.

John was slightly frustrated with how the day was turning out and he didn't want to just sit around all day waiting on someone who may not even come; but he was waiting with Sherlock, so it really wasn't that bad. He stole a glance at his friend. He was tall and skinny, with dark hair and pale skin. He had the most beautiful eyes John had ever seen, always changing from blue to green to grey, depending on the mood and day. His features were all sharp and angular, and while it would make most people look alien-like, Sherlock looked like something out of a magazine. More often than not, Sherlock would be wearing black jeans and a very fitted black button down. John found himself wishing to reach out and hold Sherlock's hand, or cheek, or even just push his fingers through his dark curls. He knew it was ridiculous to be pinning after Sherlock like this, but he couldn't help it.

Sherlock could feel John staring at him and quickly looked over, catching his eyes before John flushed and looked away. Sherlock had to repress his own smile at this. He knew that John had feelings for him and he knew that he also had feelings for John, but relationships were messy and complicated. He would have to ask Amy if it was actually worth the trouble, she always knew the answer to these things.

After a few minutes John got up and took a book out of Sherlock's shelves before plopping back onto the bed.

"Sherlock?"

"Hm?"  
"What language is this book in? These don't even look like proper letters." John flipped through some more pages before flipping the book around and searching the inside cover for a picture for the author but there was none, only more of the odd symbols.

"Oh, that, that is the Holy Book of Kafinomarjairo." John just stared at him blankly, before putting the book down and rolling onto the floor.

"Sherlock, can I ask yo-" John cut off suddenly, shielding his face with his hands. Sherlock shot off of the bed, his hands clasped together as he tried to conceal his excitement. There was an impossibly loud whooshing sound and the strongest winds John had ever felt coming from the centre of the room, where a large, blue box was now appearing.

"It's happening, John! He's here! I knew he was real, I knew it wasn't all a dream." Sherlock looked back to John, smiling wider than John had ever seen , as he shouted, trying to speak over the loud wind.

All at once, the noise and the wind stopped. John couldn't believe what he was seeing, but there it was. The magic blue box Sherlock had always told him about, down to the colour of the door handle and every last word on the door post.

The doors flew open and a blur of red went past John, running into Sherlock before latching onto him. John stumbled backwards slightly before getting a proper look at the "red blur", that he now realized was a girl. She was wearing a short denim skirt, a red top, a cropped leather jacket and simple black boots. She was tall and thin, much like Sherlock, and had long, bright red hair. This must be Amy then.

John smirked at Sherlock's expression, he was so unused to physical contact and now he had a girl latched onto him, who looked at though he was going to have to pry her off of him. What he didn't expect was for Sherlock to wrap his harms, equally tight, around her. John gaped at his friend and couldn't help but feel jealous of this Amy, who was so easily doing something he's been trying to muster the courage to do for five years.

In an attempt to distract himself from the pair, who were now giggling and holding onto each other for dear life, John looked back to the open-doored box. It was a tiny thing, how could it possibly be what Sherlock said it was? Unable to suppress his curiosity or stand to be in the same room as the apparent love birds, he slowly made his way to the blue box's doors, closing his eyes before walking in.

He knew he was dreaming when he opened his eyes, because it just wasn't possible for him to be standing inside that tiny box. Not when the inside was as huge, and magnificent as it was.

"So what do you think of my TARDIS?" John turned, and behind him was a tall, scrawny mad in a tweed jacket, suspenders, and a bow tie. His hair was light brown and ruffled, and he had cheekbones just nearly as sharp as Sherlock's. This was the Doctor?

"You're-"

"The Doctor, that's me." A normal person might think twice about being interrupted like that but Sherlock did it so often he was far too used to it by now. "And you are John Watson." The Doctor made his way over to John and kissed the air beside each of his cheeks.

"Erm..yes, thank you. What is a TARDIS anyway?"

"It's her! Time And Relative Dimension In Space. The TARDIS. Isn't she beautiful?"

"Er, yeah, but, well it- I mean she..is, uh well is a bit bigger on the inside."

The Doctor nodded emphatically and clapped his hands together, his face broke into a huge, childish grin and his eyes were bright and kind.

"Oh hey, you said it! He loves that bit." Amy and Sherlock walked back through the doors of the box, her hand still on his arm. "Sherlock never said it though, he's just far too clever to point out something so obvious." She teased him lightly and they shared a laugh again. John felt the jealousy coming up again as he looked at Amy properly. She was stunning, absolutely gorgeous. She had the same striking cheekbones as Sherlock and the Doctor, but a rounded face and her eyes were only slightly less kind than the Doctors. She looked smart, strong. No wonder Sherlock was attracted to her.

He looked over to his friend, and saw that he had a strange look in his eyes, something John had seen only twice before. The first time he'd seen it was when he had told Sherlock that he believed Sherlock's stories of the Doctor; the second time was when he had told off Mycroft when him and Sherlock had gotten into a rather heated argument and Mycroft had said some cruel things about Sherlock not being normal and having no friends. Sherlock was happy. Beyond happy, even. That sort of look in his eyes meant he may as well be crying tears of joy.

"Doctor." Sherlock didn't even look at the man, and his voice was detached.

"Sherlock." The Doctor crossed his arms over his chest, and he looked as though he was forcing himself to look away and not smile. But the two caught each others eyes and could no longer fight there smiles and giggles. The Doctor ran to Sherlock and hugged him tightly, kissing the air beside each cheek as he had with John.

"Look at you, you got so tall! Still making people cry?"

"Always, Doctor." They shared a smile again, and The Doctor ran to some sort of control panel and came back with a small, decoratively wrapped box, and handed it to Sherlock. Sherlock smiled slightly, before opening up the package and taking out a deep blue scarf. Sherlock eyes lit up as he wrapped it around his neck.

"Blue, Doctor?" He let out a dramatic, long-suffering sigh as Amy played his new scarf before taking his arm in hers again.

"Aha, of course! The bluest, blue ever! Figured you might need a splash of colour!" The Doctor smiled wide again, and began fiddling with the controls.

"So then, this is him? John Watson." Amy detached herself from Sherlock, and was now circling around John. "He's cute." She sent a look to Sherlock and gave John a flirtatious smile. "You got lucky with this one Sherlock, I wish Rory look this cute in a jumper." John felt himself flush as he realized what she was implying about him and Sherlock.

"Oh, no, no see me and Sherlock, we're not- I don't- no. We're friends. Just friends."He stumbled on his words and flushed again as she and the Doctor shared a look that shouted, as if we're going to believe that. Sherlock seemed completely oblivious to their conversation and was having a look at the control panel in the middle of the room.

"Rory. Who's Rory?" He said, clearing his throat slightly. While he was mostly desperate to change the subject, he was also a bit curious. Was there someone he was missing? Sherlock had never told him about any Rory.

"Rory is my boyfriend, back in my real time. Sherlock doesn't like him. Says he's too boring." She said rolling her eyes as John gave an amused huff. Maybe her and Sherlock's relationship wasn't so romantic after-all.

"Right, come along Pond! I think Sherlock here wants to give John a tour before we head off." The Doctor shouted before spinning around the controls, grabbing Amy's hand and shooting off into the depths of the TARDIS, not a bothering with a "good bye".


	3. Chapter Three

"So, this is it then?" John asks timidly The Doctor and Amy had just scampered off to who knows where so that Sherlock could say goodbye. Obviously, they realized this might be harder for John than he originally did.

"Ah, yes. The TARDIS, the Doctor and Miss Amelia Pond. My second home and the only real family I've ever had."

"Right. Well, when will you be home?"

"John?" John's hands were at his side, clenching every few seconds.

"I just mean, how long will you be gone?" Oh, John. Stupid, stupid. How could he think that Sherlock would be going alone? How could he believe that Sherlock wouldn't ask him to come?

"Oh, John. Don't be daft. Did you honestly believe I would be leaving without you? Surely you know me better than that by now."

"What do you-"

"Honestly, John. You're an idiot, but you're not that stupid." John felt a stupid grin start to grow wide on his face. Not only was that the best compliment you could get from Sherlock, but if Sherlock was saying what John thought he was saying, then that means..

"Are you telling me that, that I'm coming with you?"

"Of course you're coming with us. I wouldn't have it any other way." Sherlock spoke quietly, and placed a hand over Johns. John flushed lightly and quickly enveloped Sherlock in a tight hug. When they pulled away, John flushed violently, but never stopped smiled.

"Come along, John. You have to see the library. It's three times the size of Mother's library."

Sherlock wasn't exaggerating about the size of the library. It was three stories high, seemed to have every book known to man, and once even had a swimming pool in it. When he asked Sherlock if it had every book ever written in it, he just laughed and said, "No, of course not. But there is a planet of a library with a special editions of every single book written from across the universe." He also told him that The Doctor's been there before, but he lost someone there. Someone that was important to both himself and Amy, Amy didn't know this though and Sherlock didn't know who it was. There was also a Wardrobe room the size of Johns entire house, with an outfit for any, and every occasion and decade.

The last room they ventured to was Sherlock's bedroom, which had now become Sherlock and John's bedroom. Complete with hammock bunk beds, a nearly full, wall-covering book case, and more science equipment than John had ever seen. There was a post on their door from the Doctor that read

Hello John! Anything you need for your room just ask! Don't be shy! -The Doctor

PS. Even if you don't ask, I'm sure Sherlock will know and he'll tell me!

The only thing John felt he needed to make it feel like home, was a first aid kit and maybe some biology and medicinal science books. John looked around the room once more, his eyes stopping when they reached Sherlock. He was bent over a work bench, looking through a box of slides. His curls fell over his face, nearly covering his eyes. He looked up suddenly, his piercing blue eyes searching through John's green ones. He opened his mouth to say something, but his words were lost. He looked concerned, almost thoughtful, until he finally found his words.

"John? Is there something you need?" The whisper brought John back to his senses, and he realized how close they had become, their faces mere inches apart. John's eyes flickered to Sherlock's lips and he wondered what would happen if he pressed his lips onto them. He leaned forward slightly, as though he was going to find the answer to his question, but at last minute he took a step back and cleared his throat.

"Er, no, nothing. Just, I'm going to go find the Doctor and Amy. Have them pick up a first aid kit, some books and things. So, I'll just leave you to, your er, ya know." He finished awkwardly, and nearly sprinted from the room.

After getting lost and ending up in the library three times, John finally made his way back to the control room, where he found Amy and the Doctor with their heads close together and talking in hushed voices. Hidden by the door he could just barely make out their conversation.

"Yes, yes, I know! But how can we get him to see that!"

"Oh, come on Doctor! It's not all that difficult to see! Go and fetch him, yeah? And just sit him down and say 'Sherlock, there comes a time in ones life where you need to man up and tell someone when you lo-" The Doctor abruptly cut her off when the door open.

"John! What are you doing here? I thought you were looking at your new room?" The mumbled "smooth" coming from Amy was a bit louder than she meant it to be and John stared at the pair before answering.

"Er, yeah, I did. I saw the post on the door so I figured I'd stop by and tell you, well ya know, what I need."

"Oh, of course! How do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's great, the hammock bunk beds are pretty cool."  
"I know!" The Doctor nearly jumped with glee, and Amy buried her face in her hands mumbling to herself "Oh god, John what have you done." as John laughed quietly.

"Right, so I was just thinking if you could maybe get me some medical books and a first aid kit."

"Are you going to be a doctor, John?"

"Yeah, not like you, but a medical doctor." The Doctor smiled at his response not like you.

"Good. That's good." He looked like he was going to say more but Amy cleared her throat and gave him a sort of get on with it look. "Well I'm off to find Sherlock."

The Doctor strolled through the halls of the TARDIS, making his way to Sherlock and Johns room, knocking once before walking in.

"Doctor." Sherlock said as a greeting. The Doctor came in, and sat on the lower hammock, smiling. He should put hammock bunk beds in all the rooms.

"So, Sherlock. Have you become a detective yet?" Sherlock's eyes lit up slightly at the mention of his old dreams.

"No. Mycroft says it's a waste of my intelligence. He and Mother want me to be a scientist or a philosopher. Those things are boring though! I want to do something with my life! I don't want to live in boredom, and I don't want to end up like Mycroft." He remembers Mycroft's words when he realized that Sherlock was harboring feeling for John. All lives end, all hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock. He supposed Mycroft was right in this sense. Caring about people brings out your emotions, causes you to get hurt. And when you're a part of the Holmes family, one cannot be bother with emotions.

The Doctor knew there was more to this, knew there was something Sherlock wasn't telling him. The sadness in his eyes reminded him of a younger Sherlock, that he once knew.

"And what about being a pirate? No longer have your heart set on that?" Sherlock laughed bitterly.

"You know, when I went home I told him I wanted to be a pirate. He just laughed at me, said I was being childish and that it was impossible for me to be a pirate so I may as well forget about it."

"Sherlock, you were eleven years old then. You were a child! Children dream of doing childish things! Because they've got imagination and they're fun! That's why I still do childish things, life would be dull without them." Sherlock looked at him in disbelief. Mycroft was right, it was a childish wish.

"Yes but I'm not a child anymore, Doctor. I grew up."

"Amy said that to me once. And do you know what I said? 'I'll soon fix that'. I fixed it with her, I can fix it with you too." And with that the Doctor stood, ruffled Sherlock's hair as he once did, and walked out of the room. But right before he closed the door, he heard the quiet voice of a broken, lonely little boy saying, "No one can fix me. Not even you."

\------------------

"So, when did you realize it?" Amy said, hitting his shoulder lightly, before he could turn to leave.

"What? Realize what?" John stammered slightly, he was afraid that she would do this. Was it that obvious?

"Oh, come off it! Don't play coy with me." She said rolling her eyes. "You and Sherlock, how'd it happen?"

John felt himself go red, and stammered out a half-hearted "What? Me and, you're joking. Sherlock's not, I mean, I don't. I told you, we're friends. That's it. Just friends. I mean, that would be. That would be ridiculous! It'd be insane!"

"What is it then? Think he doesn't like you back? He does, ya know."

"He doesn't." He huffed out.

"Listen, just tell him, I know him! I know he likes you."

"But what if he doesn't? What if you're wrong! What if I've taken everything the wrong way and he just never knew the boundaries between friendship and relationship and so he just blurred it up. And then I go and say 'Oh hey Sherlock, I know that you hate your emotions and you think relationships are a big waste of time and effort but let's try it out because I think I'm in love with you' and then I screw everything up because he doesn't feel the same way, which I know he doesn't! He just doesn't work that way, he told me. Hell Mycroft told me! It won't end well, and I can't lose him." Amy scowled at Mycroft's name but when he seem finished she just stared at John with an amused look in her eyes. He paled slightly as he realized that he had basically just come out to her and confessed his feelings for Sherlock all in one go. "Listen, Amy, please. Don't ever tell Sherlock about this. Don't tell anyone. Not the Doctor, not Rory, not your diary. No one can know!"

"Yeah, alright. I won't tell anyone then."

"Good. Aright. Good. So then, tell me about all this."

Amy began talking about the mad man in the box when she was a little girl and Prisoner Zero. It started as her just explaining all the things the Doctor does but then she started to relive the memories, the adventures they all had. Crazy things, beyond imagination. London in space, Weeping Angels, how Rory died and came back as a Roman, and meeting Vincent Van Gog and the Pandorica. Daleks, apparently, were the Doctors arch-enemies. Real arch-enemies, not just Sherlock talking about Mycroft. She talked of alien planets and ancient times. And John found himself so caught up in her stories, he didn't notice that the Doctor had came back until he clapped a hand down on John's shoulder.

"Okay! Team meeting. Sherlock! Come on down! Oh I like that, team. We're a team, aren't we? What do you say, Amy we're a team?"

"Yes Doctor, the very best team that ever was!" Amy shouted with a laugh. Sherlock walked down the stairs and hopped onto a seat closest to them.

"Found out where we're going first, Doctor?" He asked, not bothering to try and hide his excitement.

"Oh yes, this is going to be a good one. A good starting adventure. We didn't do this the last time, no clue why because it's going to be brilliant! But we're doing it now, and now we've got John."

"Yes, Doctor now you've got me, and we're a big happy team. But what is it? What are we going to see?"

"Oh, you're going to love this bit, Sherlock. You're going to see you're favorite things in the world." The Doctor looked around his three friends. John was visibly confused, Amy's face broke into a wide grin, and Sherlock just stared at him in disbelief. "Let's find some Pirates."


	4. Chapter Four

"We'll meet pirates, he says. It'll be fun!" Amy whispered bitterly in, what she hoped was, the Doctor's direction. The TARDIS had landed right in the middle lower deck, where most of the crew happened to be sleeping. Apparently, the Doctor didn't think about these pirates all being Scottish, and slightly less amiable than the group of pirates they had previously befriended. The four of them were now tied to one of the ship's masts.

"Oh, Amy the last time they were so friendly! We should call them up, go for brunch. Anyway, look on the bright side. Pirates!" The Doctor said, trying to keep his tone light

"The bright side, Doctor? Where is there a possible bright side in this situation!" Sherlock looked to his friend with concern. It wasn't often that John got angry in this way, but when he did it could end up being dangerous for everyone around him. He suspected that John got his nasty temper from his father, and though he had only seen John lose himself in it once, John's entire room had been destroyed. He wanted to tell John to close his eyes and count to ten, to twenty. Over and over, in different languages if he had to. But he found that he couldn't speak, and refocused on finding a way out, any way out, of this. It was obvious that the three men watching the were worried. Of course, four people landed a blue box in the middle of their ship. But it wasn't that. There's something else. They're all wearing gloves and have a rag tied over their mouth and nose, almost like a makeshift surgical mask. The men aren't focused on the four of them, they seem to be worried about something or someone on a lower deck. Someone is sick.

"Doctor someone on board, part of the crew, is ill. Could possibly be fatal, not so bad that they haven't killed him or stopped for medicine but bad enough that they're taking extra precautions to keep them selves safe."

"Right. Right. Okay. Hey! Hello, excuse me!" The Doctor motioned toward the man closest to them the best he could. "Hi, yes. Hello, I'm the Doctor and-" The man took a step closer and cut him off.

"A doctor? Were needin' a doctor."

"Yes, well, no. The Doctor. Not a doctor. Big difference see but-" He was cut off again. A doctor, they need a doctor. John's eyes sparked at this and he caught Amy's eyes as he quickly nodded.

"I am, I'm a doctor. Hello, yes, I'm Doctor John Watson and she is my nurse. Is someone on board sick?"

"Jack's boy. Ain't been able to make port to get 'im help, can't just toss 'im over either can we? Not the Captain's son."

"No, no of course not. If you'd untie my nurse and myself, I'd be glad to take a look at him." John said with a smile. Sherlock could do nothing but beam at him. His John, his brilliant, brilliant John.

"Right, o'course." He untied John and Amy, then retied Sherlock and the Doctor. John held out a hand for him to shake and asked his name. The man just stared at his hand before grunting out "Charles."

Charles led John and Amy onto the lower deck they had landed on and into the Captains quarters, where a young man was laying across the bed. In the corner of the room, a man sat in a large chair with a rag covering his nose and mouth.

There was a faint sheen of sweat covering his forehead His skin was pale and clammy, and there was a stench of vomit coming from somewhere inside the room. He looked young, couldn't have been any older than John was. John placed a hand on his forehead, cheeks and neck. He was burning up.

"Hello, I'm er, Doctor John Watson. What's your name?"

"Jackson." The boy whispered, looking to the corner of the room.

"Is that your dad there, Jackson?" The boy nodded. "And you're name after him then?" He nodded again. "Okay Jackson, do you have any head or muscle pains?"

Jackson nodded a third time before whispering, "I can't move my legs or arms. They're hurtin' Doctor. Please help me. I don't want to die."

John muttered the symptoms to himself "fever, head aches, muscle pains". Just the flu then. Vaguely aware of Amy and Charles standing behind him and the Captain staring at him, John ran his finds through Jackson's hair and smiled reassuringly at him.

"Don't you worry, Jackson. Just the flu. The pains will go away soon. How long have you been sick?"

"He has been sick for four days." The Captain spoke for the first time, his voice loud and harsh. John stood slowly and turned to meet his gaze.

"Your son will be fine. His illness can spread right now, but in about three more days you can take those rags from around your mouth. In less than a week, he'll be feeling as good as new." John kept his voice as friendly as he could, refusing to look away from the Captain until he nodded and sat back down. He heard Amy sigh in relief behind him.

The door flew open and the Doctor and Sherlock walked in, with another pirate trailing them.

"I hear you have a demon living under the waters." The Doctor stated, smiling, as if it was the most sane and simple thing on the planet.

"Doctor what are you talking about? Are you sure it's not just a big misunderstanding with an alien nurse, because that happens." The Captain, Jackson and Charles stared at her and the Doctor as they laughed quietly, Sherlock and John smirking at them. Captain Jack shot a glare at the all of them before shaking his head.

"Who are you? Why are you here?"

"Oh, right. Hello! I'm the Doctor." He leaned forward on his toes slightly, just a little too excited about the possibility of this "under water demon".

"You're a doctor too?" Was it that hard to understand the difference between the the and the a?

"No, no. He is a doctor. I'm called the Doctor. I explained this all to Charles here." He said, clapping a hand onto Charles shoulder who shrugged him off. "Anyway, me and Sherlock here, got talking to one of your pals. Victor." He turned and pointed the the man next to Sherlock. "He said that these are cursed waters, and that there's a demon living below the waves. So, tell me about this demon?"

"He spoke the truth. There is a demon who lives below us. A demon larger than any ship, more violent that any beast." The Captains voice was low, and quiet.

"And does this creature have a name?" Amy said at the same time that Sherlock said, "What does the beast look like?" causing John and the Doctor to smirk.

"It's call a Slidean. The beast is massive with scales the color of the sea itself covering its length. It remains so well hidden that you only see the red of its eyes when it's too late to run. It has sharp, over-lapping teeth the size of a man's leg, and talons the size of a mans arm. It has no rear legs, only the front two. But its body goes into a tail, a tail that shoots many swords out of it, in the same way as a cannon shoots. There is no escaping the beast. I fear for my son and my crew. I fear that you have drawn the beast closer to my ship." His eyes softened slightly when he looked to his, now asleep, son.

"My ship, my box. It can take you anywhere you like. I can take you, your son and your crew away from here. Take you somewhere safe." The captain looked at the Doctor, his eyes fierce and glowering once more.

"I will not abandon my ship! The beast will surely take her."

"It was a suggestion to save your son, which is more important!" They're bickering quickly turned into an argument of mixed shouts. As Amy tried to calm down Jackson and get him back to sleep, Sherlock and Victor began animatedly talking about the "sea demon", and Charles and John just stared blankly at the chaos around them.

"Has anyone tried to talk to it?" John asked quietly, but no one seemed to hear him. Maybe Amy had it right with it being a misunderstanding. "HEY!" The shout put the rest of the room in silence, everyone looking to John. "I said, has anyone tried to talk to it?" The Doctor, Sherlock and Amy looked at him, curious. Victor and the Captain's eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

"Are you mad, man? It's a vicious beast-"

"But what if it's not!" John looked around, everyone was stunned. He couldn't be the only one who had though of this, right? "What if it's not just a vicious beast like everyone says! Have you ever seen it? Been close enough to touch it? If every single person you've come into contact with has run away from you calling you a horrid beast, a demon, wouldn't you become a bit vicious too? Become a bit angry, defensive?" As John finished his sentence, the ship began to rock back and forth, violently. It felt as though some unforeseen storm had started directly above the ship.

"It's here! The beast is here! Charles, gather the men. Have their swords and cannons ready for battle!" The Captain shouted as everyone, except Jackson, ran to the upper level.

Sherlock could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the creature just a short distance away from the ship. The Captain may have exaggerated the measurements of the thing, but it was massive all the same. They could do nothing but watch as the men around them ran about, throwing swords to their comrades and loading cannons, aimed at the fast approaching creature. He looked to John and saw the look of pure horror on his face. He knew John wouldn't stand to watch them kill the creature, but soon enough the smoke from cannons firing and the sounds of swords clashing against scales filled the air around them. He kept a tight grip on John's arm, forcing him to stay away from the fighting, but he knew he wouldn't be able to keep him away. John would want to try and stop them.

Next to him, the Doctor held Amy back as she shouted at him "John's right! Would you look at the poor thing! Do something, Doctor! Just do something! Don't let them kill it! Please, just make them stop!" tears streaking down her face.

Somewhere in the distance, two men died, and the truth of the situation became too much for John to bear. He broke away from Sherlock and grabbed a sword from the ground, swinging at anyone who came to close to him or the creature until everyone stopped fighting, stopped moving, and silence took over the ship. The creature look at John with sharp eyes, watching his every movement, as he threw down the sword and slowly walked closer to it. Sherlock's breath caught in his throat.

"I think I know how you're feeling right now, I really do!" John spoke slowly, quietly to the creature. "I know a boy who was greatly misunderstood, by everyone. Even his own family. People who had never even met him created lies about him, called him vicious names, ran from him. He started to believe all the nasty things that people had said about him, and he put up his own defenses and became that vicious, nasty boy that everyone had always said he was. But he's not like that! Because I know him, and he's not only my best friend but also the best man I've ever known and ever will know. And he was once just a misunderstood little boy, who was scared and rejected and lonely." He slowly moves closer and closer to the creature. "Are you like that too? You're just trying to protect yourself, aren't you?" He raised his hand and tentatively placed it onto the creature head, smiling. "You know, it's not better to be fear than loved." Sherlock looked up at these words smiling, and saw John smiling back at him. Of course the story was about him. But how could he not have seen this before? How could he have possibly believed that Mycroft was right about having feelings for John? How could he have been so stupid to deny it? But looking into those kind green eyes, he knew. There was no point in denying it any longer.

Sherlock Holmes was in love with John Watson.


	5. Chapter Five

Sherlock Holmes was in love John Watson.

He started walking towards John, smiling wider than ever before. All eyes were on John and the creature, staring in utter disbelief. Some men took off their hats and held them over their chests.

"I believe this calls for a celebration." The Captain said slowly, putting his hat back on and walking to the dining cabin before waiting for anyone's response to this. Some of the other men murmured an agreement, put their hats back on and followed the Captain out. Charles stared at John and the creature in disgust before following his crew out, leaving Sherlock, Victor, The Doctor and Amy alone with John and the creature.

The Doctor and Amy beamed at John, it was clear they were both touched by John's story. Victor looked slightly confused, but was smiling. Sherlock paid none of them any attention, focused completely on John. He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, John smiled up at him, and pulled him upward into a tight hug. Johns hands hang tightly around his shoulders, his face fitted neatly into Sherlock's neck, and Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's waist, pulling him in closer. He felt John's smile widen against his neck, and couldn't stop his from growing as well.

When they pulled back, John flushed slightly at the thought of their friends seeing such a display of affection between the two, but he found that the three of them had joined the rest of the crew to the dining cabin.

"Come on, John, let's go eat." Sherlock spoke quietly, afraid that by breaking the silence he would be ruining the moment. John shook his head slightly.

"No, no you go. I'm just gonna stay up here for a bit. I'll be down soon. You go, learn to be a pirate." Still smiling he looked to the creature who was now following his every movement.

"Are you sure? I can stay?" He was hesitant to leave John alone in case the creature unexpectedly lashed out, but John seemed determined to befriend the creature and insisted that he stay with it. Sherlock nodded in agreement, and started walking away, feeling John's eyes on him. He listened for any sign on John wanting him to come back, and stopped when he heard a quiet sigh. He turned around, stared at the blonde hair's on John's head, that was still turned away from him and quickly started walking back towards him, decision made.

"John." He murmured, smiling as John turned around about to ask what he was doing. But he quickly moved closer, and took John's hand in his. "Thank you. For what you said." And he pressed his lips against John's temple. When he pulled away again, John's face was a dark scarlet, eyes wide and mouth hanging open just slightly. Oh, what Sherlock would give to just finally press his lips to John's, to wrap himself around him and just breathe him in. But there would be other time for that, and it had to be special, to be perfect, for John. The moment had to be worthy of John. So he would wait. He winked at his friend- was friend still the right word?- and began walking back the way he came and down into the dining cabin.

\------------------

Everyone seemed to be having a good time, drinking, eating and chatting away. He could hear Amy's loud laughter across the room, and at some point the Doctor began dancing on a chair. Sherlock sat down next to Victor, who he had befriend usually fast, and immediately started asking him questions about what real pirates did with their time, how It was living on the sea's and with a crew of sailors, what it was like to be brash and unrestrained by social expectations. Sherlock sat there for what could have been hours, eyes shining and his face resembling what could have been a little girl talking to a real princess for the first time. He listened to story after story about Victor's adventures on the sea, about how they slept, drank, sailed and stole, they had sex with who ever they wanted and basically did whatever they wanted. They had no rules in life, other than don't get caught. The crew, Victor said, had become his family and they were much more loyal than pirates usually were but that was a good thing because they truly cared for each other- well most of them at least- and they watched out of each other. He loved every minute of it until he came to the bitter realization that he was hearing about a life he had always wanted but will never be able to have. But he had John, and his experiments and the Doctor and Amy, so not being a pirate wasn't all that bad.

But something wasn't right, something was out of place. He looked to his left, seeing Charles. He had drank two bottles of rum already, and began started on a third when he started shouting about the beast. Most other didn't pay him any attention, or just said they didn't want to slay the creature, but he wanted to hear nothing of it. He was quickly becoming more and more aggressive, until he picked up his sword, slurred what sounded like "I'll kill the damn thing myself"and ran out the door. It seemed Sherlock was not the only one watching him, for the Doctor stood up with Sherlock, nearly beating him to the door, Amy and Victor hot on their tails.

"Doctor, he's going to-"

"Yes, yes I know! We just need to get up there and talk some sense-"

"No, Doctor listen to me!" Sherlock shouted as they ran up the stairs. "John's up there. He's there right now, ready to protect that creature. Charles could get him killed and I'm not letting that happen!"

They reached the upper deck just a few seconds to late and saw the sudden glint of metal just before hearing the pound of feet. Charles ran out to the creature, stabbing it hard in the shoulder.

"No, John! No!" Sherlock screamed, sprinting to pull John out of the way in time, but he was too late. He heard Amy scream behind him, but he couldn't pay that any attention. It was like everything was happening in slow motion, and the world stopped moving. The creature screeched and threw itself into the depths of the ocean, it's tail whipping around. He saw the blades slicing John's right leg and cheek, watched as the realization of what had happened and the pain of it spread on John's face as he fell to the ground. He could do nothing but run to his friend, but he couldn't get there fast enough. There was so much blood, so much pain on John's face. Sherlock threw himself to John's side, cradling his head in his lap.

"John! John, are you alright? Please, John, I need you to answer me, will you do this for me? Just open your eyes and look at me!" The cut on his face spread across his cheek, narrowly missing his lips and right eye.

"Sh'lock? What're you..whatsgoinon?" John slurred. He was losing too much blood, too fast. Sherlock's vision blurred as he shouted for the Doctor. He would fix things, he could make things right. He grabbed hold of his friends hand and kissed the top of his head, begging him to stay awake. Telling him that the pain would go away soon and that they'll make everything better. Someone tried to pull him up and he jerked away from them. He wasn't leaving John, he needed to help him.

"Sherlock, please, we need to get John into the TARDIS okay? We're going to get him help but you need to help me carry him down there while the Doctor yells at all this moron, okay? Please, Sherlock." Amy whispered softly in his ear, and he tore his eyes from John to look up at her. Her face was red and streaked with tears. He felt himself nod and stand, bringing John with him, who had began grunting in pain, as best as he could. As they carried John into the TARDIS he faintly heard the Doctor calling Charles an idiot over and over again. Victor rushed after Sherlock catching his arm right before the TARDIS doors closed.

"Sherlock! Wait please, take this will you?" He spoke quickly, understanding how urgent it was to get John safe, and thrust a fully decomposed skull and his hat into Sherlock's free arm. "Take my hat and my skull. His name is Yorrick, I talk to him sometimes when the crew gets to be too much. I want you to have him. And don't look back on today and only remember the destruction Charles brought. I hope John is okay. And I hope to see you again one day." Sherlock nodded and muttered a thank you, trying to smile at him, before shutting the doors.

\------------------  
Six Hours Later

He remembered Amy helping him drag John onto one of the chairs in the control room and how she ran to get John's first aid kit as the Doctor ran through the doors and began punching dates and coordinates into the TARDIS.

"Don't you worry Sherlock. We're going to fix John. I'm taking him to the best hospital I know of." The TARDIS started up, and Amy cut through John's jeans to put gauze along the cuts while Sherlock cleaned the cut John's cheek. Amy reached out to him, suddenly, wiping something off of his face, telling him everything would be okay and that they'd get John help. He didn't realize until later that she had wiped off his tears. He laughed bitterly at the realization, the Great Sherlock Holmes, crying. Mother would be so ashamed.

He pushed that thought away and refocused on John. That had all happened hours ago, and they four of them now sat in a hospital room in complete silence, other than the sound of their breathing. The hospital was odd, and the nurse's were all some type of alien cat/human mix, but the Doctor insisted that this hospital on New Earth had the cure for every disease in the universe- apparently in six years he would return as his younger self and have it shut down.

John was sleeping in a hospital bed, his leg stitched and his face bandaged, leaning against Sherlock, who was laying behind him, kissing the back of his hand every so often. The Doctor and Amy sat across the bed in plastic chairs, the Doctor with his head in his hands and Amy hugging her knees against her chest, tears dried on her face.

As John began to shift and wake up, Sherlock paniced and jumped out of the bed as carefully as he could manage, but never letting go of John's hand. All eyes were on John, this was the third time that he had began to stir, but they waited with bated breath. John slowly opened his eyes, and smiling when he say Sherlock's worried face staring down at him.

"Hey 'Lock." His voice still thick with sleep. Amy and the Doctor ran to his bedside, the three of them smiling at him with tears in their eyes. "Hey, don't look like that, I'm alright. Really, I'm fine, see!" He tried to sit up, immediately regretting the decision and laid back down. A look of pain and sadness shot across Sherlock's face. He took his hand out of John's and stood, his face stony and emotionless.

"Amy, I need to talk to you. In the hall." His eyes narrowed at the Doctor as if daring him to follow, and he walked out of the room. Amy exchanged a quick look with the Doctor and John, who frowned and stared after Sherlock, before leaving the room and shutting the door.

"So what's this about then?"

"Is it worth it?" He was turned away from her and he could tell that he was trying to detach all emotion from his voice and face.

"This is about John, yeah? He's going to be fine, Sherlock-"

"Of course it's about John!" He snapped out. "Just tell me! Love, relationships, is it worth the possibily of losing him? Because I will. I'm going to do or say something wrong and he'll hate me for it. He'll never forgive me and he'll leave and in turn, i'll never be able to forgive myself. So just tell me. Is. It. Worth it." If she didn't know any better, it would seem as though he could care less about the whole matter, but she could hear the hidden pain, the hesitance in his voice. She frowned.

"Sherlock, do you love him?" He turned suddenly, glaring at her.

"Of course I do!" He shouted, his frustration with the situation quickly grabbing hold of him. "Look at me! I'm going out of my mind because he was injured! What if something worse happens to him? Or if I hurt him! What am I supposed to do if I ruin everything and lose him? I don't think I could take it, Amy." His voice hastily dropped from a shout to a whisper. "I can't lose him." Amy pulled him into a hug, and he sobbed quietly into her shoulder, the events of the past hours taking its toll on him. After a minute or so, he pulled back and wiped his face, clearing it of all emotions again. He turned to walk back into the room, but her hand on his arm stopped him.

"Sherlock, listen. I can't promise that it's going to be easy. I can't promise that you won't fight or make him mad, and that he won't make you mad. It happens, people fight, but it won't ruin your relationship and you won't lose him over it. John is worth it. I see the way you look at him. I see the way he looks at you. Just give it a chance, and please don't run away from this." Sherlock just nodded and walked back into the room. He heard her sigh quietly, but he paid it no attention. John was smiling at him again and that was enough for now.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clear up any confusion about ages, from 1993 Sherlock is 15 and John is 17. John is about to go to Uni and Sherlock is going into Year 11. Amy is from 2012 (at about the same time she's with the Doctor is seasons five-six) and is about 23

After two days passed, John was finally released from the hospital, and the four travelers were making their way back to the TARDIS. In that time John's leg and face fully healed. He was given two special creams: one that stitched the skin properly, and one that removed all scarring. He was pleased that he wouldn't have to explain any new scar to anyone, but he wanted desperately to leave the hospital, mostly so that he could wander into the depths of the TARDIS and escape the worried, anxious looks and stares from his three friends. And possibly get the chance to sort out this new relationship with Sherlock, whatever it was. It confused him beyond belief, one day Sherlock was attached to his hand, his arm, his hair. Anywhere he could keep his hold onto. And the next he became oddly distant, frequently leaving the room to take walks around the hospital. He wasn't going to pry though, he knew that if Sherlock wanted to talk about it with John, he would.

But John was not the only one confused by Sherlock's actions. Amy had told the Doctor of Sherlock's small outburst in the hall and of Sherlock's true feelings for John. She knew that he wouldn't be upset with her for telling the Doctor, and that he most likely had secretly hoped she would that way he wouldn't have to be the one to do it. When Sherlock began walking around the hospital more and more frequently, the Doctor began pacing about John's hospital room, arms crossed and occasionally wiping one hand over his mouth and chin. Amy kept an eye on the three of them as best she could, tracking how long Sherlock's walks lasted, making sure they all slept and ate, and checking on John to make sure he was recovering properly. She just wanted to get out of there so that things could go back normal- well, their kind of normal.

\------------------

Sherlock's mind was at war with itself. His Mind Palace was crumbling from the destruction of his own thoughts, he would soon have to rest and rebuild the more important sections. He just wanted John to be safe, but if he had to choose between risk losing him in order for him to gain that safety or keeping him and getting him injured again or even killed, which was more important? Sherlock was a selfish being by nature, but since John had entered his life, he had slowly become Sherlock's main priority. Other than the conversation he had with Amy, he stayed silent while the four were in the hospital. When he found he wanted to say something to John, he left the room. He didn't want anyone to try and influence his decision until he wanted them to. But they were now re-entering the TARDIS and he had yet to make a decision. John's safety was the most important thing, surely. But would he be able to forgive Sherlock for leaving him home while Sherlock went off with the Doctor and Amy?

Of course there was always one other option. They could both go home, let the Doctor go off with Amy, let them have their own adventures. That would be a last resort option, because as much as he wanted John safe, he wanted to stay with the Doctor, for as long as he could.

There was one last thing that Sherlock had yet to take into consideration. He looked to his friend, raking his eyes across John's face, neck, torso and legs, and back up to his face meeting the startlingly, green eyes. He wondered briefly how long John had been staring at him, how long he had been staring at John, where they were, who was with them.

"Doctor, would you mind if I choose where we go next? I have a rather specific place that I want to go." Amy broke through his thoughts, making him break eye contact with John. He took in his surroundings. They were in the control room, Amy sat in a chair across the room, the Doctor ran about the controls pressing random buttons and pulling almost every lever twice. John was standing in front of him, still staring at him from barely an arm's length away, leaning against the stairway railing. They must have only walked into the TARDIS less than three minutes ago. He caught John's eye again and smiled causing John to flush and looking away, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Of course, Amelia, we can go where ever you like." Amy giggled when the Doctor bopped her on the nose."Well see, we haven't got any milk. And we haven't got Rory. So I thought, why not pop to Cardiff and pick up both?"

\------------------

"Amy!" Rory called out to her, and broke into a run, swopping her into her arms. She kissed him smiling and laughing, as her spun her around. "It's been three month's since I last saw you. I missed you." He said, resting his forehead on hers.

"I know, I missed you too. Sorry it's taken so long, we had to pick up these two and battle some pirates." Amy said, separating herself slightly to show him Sherlock and John, but Rory saw someone else first.

"Doctor!" He quickly let go of his wife and hugged the Doctor.

"Rory the Roman! Good to see you! Right, well I'm off the get the milk."

"Why does he call you that?" John asked, confused, after the Doctor runs off.

"Call me what?" Did none of the others hear him call Rory a Roman?

"A Roman."

"Oh, uh, well I died and I came back as a Roman."

"You died?" John just stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Oh for goodness sake John, it's not that much of an accomplishment he's died six times." Sherlock snapped out as Amy began laughing, knowing what was about to come.

"Hey, two of those were in a weird dream-world, one of them was a hallucination and one of them I only had to pretend to die. So I've really only died twice, thanks." Amy's laughter rang louder and Sherlock rolled his eyes, smirking. "Amy, it's not funny! I died!" John could do nothing but stare between the three of them. They were kidding, right? He looked to Sherlock, but he was running off after the Doctor.

"Doctor!" He looked behind him to see Sherlock running out to him. "I want to talk to you about something, figured I'd help you get the milk as well. The stores a short distance away." Sherlock had planned for this and took a quick look at a map before they had left the TARDIS.

"Ah, Sherlock, always two steps ahead." Sherlock smiled, but it faltered slightly.

"Doctor, I have to ask you about something."

\------------------

He thought back on the conversation he had with the Doctor for what could have been the millionth time.

"Doctor, will you do something for me?"

"Yes, of course, what is it?"

"Bring John home." The Doctor stopped walking, staring at Sherlock for a long time before answering.

"No. Sherlock, no. I won't bring him home unless he wants to." The Doctor started walking again, frowning deeply.

"Doctor, please, he's not safe here! He's not safe with me! I can't lose him Doctor! You know what that's like! I know you do." The Doctor stopped walking again, turning slowly to face Sherlock.

"What did you say?"

"You've lost people too, many times, people you wanted to look out for, protect. But one was different, and wouldn't let you. Who did you lose, Doctor? In the Library all that time ago, who was it? Someone important, to both you and Amy, a friend. But who?" Sherlock was never one to mince words, the Doctor frowned slightly.

"Yes, she was a friend. And so much more than a friend. Someone I trust with my life, someone I would die for again and again; as long as I can take her pain with me. And I know those feelings are mutual."

"Sentiment, Doctor. It's overriding your logic." His tone harsh, he had never acted this way to the Doctor before, and the frown deepened.

"No, Sherlock. That's just love. She loved me, and she died for me. And one day, I will die for her for the same reasons." For a moment confusion flickered across Sherlock's feature before the stony, detached demeanor returned.

"What are you trying to say, Doctor?"

"I'm saying, go to John. Tell him you love him before it's too late." The Doctor said quietly before turning back to the store and walking away. As he was opening the door, Sherlock spoke again.

"Wait, Doctor! What did she say, what did she do, to gain that level of trust?" The Doctor looked at him over his shoulder, a sad smile on his face.

"She told me my name. Just my name." And he walked into the store, not bothering to look for which direction Sherlock walked off to.

To Sherlock, it had been a completely useless conversation. He already knew that he would die for John and that he trusted him more than anyone else, more than Amy even. And he was certain that John felt the same way. But maybe Amy and the Doctor were right, it might be best to ask John how he would feel about it. He looked to his friend. He was leaning against a stone wall, across from where Sherlock sat on a bench. Amy, Rory and the Doctor went off to find dinner somewhere, leaving John and Sherlock alone for the first time since they were on the pirate ship. Would John be upset with this? Most likely yes. Should he soften it with compliments? Not happening. He'd just come right out with it.

"John, I must ask you something, of the utmost importance." John looked up at him, smiling, and slowly closed the short gap between them.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Would you hate me completely if I sent you home?"

"I- what? What are you talking about Sherlock?" Smile gone, fists clenching at the sides. His face remained calm, but Sherlock knew there was anger and betrayal hidden beneath.

"I think that it's safe for you to travel with us and I would prefer if you went home."

"What the hell is this about? You expect me to just, just go home! Act like everything is fine, sit pretty and wait for your sorry arse to come back so that you can tell me all about the wonderful adventures you've had? No. No, I mean Jesus Sherlock, I actually thought you- no, forget it. I'm not going back. Not alone." Sherlock had expected him to be angry, that was a given, but he had not prepared for John to be hurt, to feel betrayed. He watched John start to walk away and, for the first time in years, was at a loss for words. What could he say to make this right? John stopped, turned and began walking towards him again.

"You know, Sherlock, the last couple days you've been acting weird and I dealt with it fine because I thought you were working up the courage to tell me- to say how you. Just." John shook his head and wiped his face with his palm. Sherlock's eyes met John's and his breath caught. John was expecting him to confess his feelings for him. Was it obvious? Was the kiss he placed on John's temple too much? Did John know that he had slept on Sherlock at the hospital, that Sherlock had never let go of his hand while he was asleep, that he had placed small pecks on John's head? He had to make this right, he couldn't lose John. But he already was, John was turning, ready to walk away.

"John, I-"

"No just shut up Sherlock! Okay? Just don't." He said, jabbing a finger at Sherlock's chest. "I've read it all wrong, haven't I? You're just trying to get rid of-" Sherlock grabbed John's hand, intertwining their fingers and John cut off suddenly, his mouth agape. Sherlock pulled him into a tight hug and kissed each of his temples.

"John, John, John. You've got it all wrong. I would never get rid of you. I'm not trying to leave you or make you unhappy. I'm just scared. Scared of losing you, and of you getting hurt. Please understand that." He spoke quietly, slowly, into John's ear, rubbing small circles into his back. John's hand clung to Sherlock's hips, pulling them closer. "I'm sorry, John. Please forgive me." John froze in his arms, looking up into Sherlock's eyes before nodding into his chest. He had never heard Sherlock apologize in their five years of friendship. John smiled. "Come along, John, let's get some dinner."


	7. Chapter Seven

That night, they walked and walked until finding a small Italian restaurant that was still open. John ordered Chicken Broccoli Alfredo, and Sherlock ate all the chicken out of it. They talked for hours, about Victor, the Slidean, what they missed from home, what they didn't miss. They talked of living in London, Sherlock being the one Consulting Detective and John being a surgeon. They told small snipets of their childhood, retold tales of their own adventures. John was grateful that his left hand was dominant and Sherlock's dominant was his right, because at some point in the conversation, John slipped his fingers through Sherlock's.

They didn't let go all night. Not on the walk home, not when passing through the Control Room and saying goodnight. And especially not when they were finally alone in their room, where Sherlock wrapped his free arm around John's waist, pulling him close until their faces were mere centimetres apart. John nodded slightly, looking up at Sherlock, placing his right hand on Sherlock's neck and pulling him down into a slow, soft kiss. The feel of Sherlock's lips against his drove him nearly insane. Sure, he's had kisses before but this. This was Sherlock, and it was absolutely perfect. John wasn't sure if it last for a few minutes or a few hours, but eventually they had to pull away to avoid asphyxiation.

Sherlock smiles down at John, one of those special smiles that secretly mean that he's crying tears of joy on the inside. John smiled back up at him and pulled him to the lower hammock, where the fell asleep in each others arms, fingers still intertwined.

The next morning, everyone was gathered in the Control Room, John handing out tea, toast, and coffee. The Doctor turned around to see his Ponds laughing quietly with their heads together and John quietly whispering to Sherlock while holding out a piece of toast that, to John's obvious satisfaction, Sherlock reluctantly took a bite out of.

"So! What's going on today, Time or Space?" He asked with a smile, clapping his hands together.

"Space!"

"Space, oh Doctor I love seeing alien planets!"

"Time."

"Space, definitely space." John, Amy, Sherlock and Rory all shouted out at once, and Sherlock looked a little put out at being the only person to say time. Amy gave him a sort of puppy eyes look and he rolled his eyes.

"Yes, fine, space. Alien planets await." He said, sinking back into his seat ready to sulk and pout, which only deepened when John went into a laughing fit. Soon enough everyone joined in, and Sherlock couldn't hold back a smirk of his own.

\------------------

"Okay! We are on the planet Frackshar and the natives are called Sharlons. Their language, it's just a bunch of odd clicking, not missing much. I came here a long time ago, loved it, because you know what they are famous for? Giant.." He swung the doors open and made a dramatic pause. "Er, crime scenes?" The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and began spinning wildly, aiming it at anything and everything, as his four companions piled out of the TARDIS.

"Doctor what is this?"

"Oh god, Rory even you can't be that thick!" Sherlock snapped, earning a glare from Amy. "It's a crime scene and there's been a murder." He spun around, much like the Doctor was, and took in his surroundings. The TARDIS had parked in between two business towers that were both roped off and surrounded by at least 50 officers and forensic personnel. There were two groups of approximately 10 people each at the base of both towers, and directly above on the roofs of the towers were two similar groups. Both towers were surrounded by fruit trees, at least 50 stories high. One of the towers tree's were adorned with apples, the other with peaches, their sizes appropriate for the proportions of the trees.

"There was murder here, double homicide. The two victims were CEO's of two rather successful harvest and distribution companies. The towers are identical and the crime scenes are most likely identical as well. I won't know any more than that unless I see the victims and crime scenes."

"Sherlock, how did you-" He cut John off, ready to be asked for an explanation.

"Two towers, two groups of at least ten at both towers, one group on the roof and the other on the ground. There wouldn't be this amount of officials present if the victims were mere businessmen or workers."

"What do they harvest though? I don't get- What?" Rory and Sherlock stared at each other for a moment, Rory's face full of confusion and Sherlock's of disgust.

"Doctor I'll let you explain it to this imbecile." Rory scoffed at him and Sherlock stepped back, slipping his hand through John's and earning the pair a smirk from Amy that caused John to blush.

"Giant apples and peaches! Don't you see the trees! How brilliant is that, I mean really. But you know what would be better? Banana trees. Can never go wrong with a good old-"

"Oi, what are you lot doing here? This is a restricted area, you're not allowed to be here." At the sight of an officer making his way towards the group, the Doctor quickly took out his psychic paper, flashing it in front of the man's eyes.

"My name is the Doctor, these are my partners, Sherlock Holmes, Amelia Pond, John Watson and Rory." Sherlock smirked as Rory muttered "Why don't I have a last name". "We're here to investigate the crime scenes, and as my card says here, we're the best detectives the universe can offer. So, how about those crime scenes?"

\------------------

The first body was that of a female, or so the Doctor said. Her skin, which would normally be a vibrant hue of indigo, was now a fading blue. Her arms and legs were sprawled out around her, arms bent over her head in a push-up position, legs bent at the knees and faced to her right. Around her head was a pool of her dark green blood. Her hair, pure white and cropped short, was now dirtied by her blood. She had no eyes brows and her cheekbones were high and sharp. Her legs, arms, and neck were long and thin, similar to Sherlock's. She wore a long shawl that looped around her neck, wrapped tightly around her torso, and fell into a skirt at her hips. She looked beautiful, or she would if you didn't look at the horrible, frightened expression now permanently etched on her face.

"Married, having an affair. No children or family that she would have been close to. She has unusually strong arms and her legs are no where near as strong, from what I've seen that is how most of Sharlons are. She is the CEO's of the planets leading apple harvesting company. I won't be able to say more until I see her office." Sherlock rattled off quickly after laying around the body and deducing facts for about two minutes. It usually would have taken less time, but it was more difficult to deduce an alien's life than a humans "Right, onto the next victim." Sherlock muttered, more to himself than anyone else and walked off.

Rory and Amy were visibly disturbed at seeing the first victim, and after the Doctor and John shared a glance, John nodded and followed after Sherlock. The Doctor took Amy and Rory's arms and pulled them aside

"Why don't you to go and find out all that you can about the victims. Talk to their friends, their family, their co-workers. Just find as much information as you can. Okay?" They both looked extremely grateful and muttered a thanks before heading off.

Sherlock was already crouched down next to the body of Chaviklar Nursha, the second victim, when the Doctor came back over, and John had a look of slight confusion on his face. The Doctor looked to the body and understood the source of the confusion. Nursha's body had landed in the exact same position that Makerni's had landed in. The two were almost identical in looks, both having pure white hair, high cheekbones, strong arms and long, thin features. The only difference was the length of their hair, Nursha's being shoulder-length, and that his shawl was looped around his torso, once over his shoulder and once under his shoulder, before pooling down into the same skirt style.

"Sherlock, he's exactly the same as-" John started, but Sherlock hopped up, heading towards the tower.

"Yes, John I know, he landed in the same position almost as though the killers had come back down and rearranged them to be the same. He is also married and having an affair, has no kids of immediate family with strong arms but not strong legs. He and the other woman are most likely friends, I'd even go far enough to say they having an affair with each other. Both of them sit in their offices most of the day, only leaving for meetings that they likely have with each other. One thing leads to another and they're having an affair. Now they're both dead."

"But they weren't killed because of that? This is something else, something bigger."

"Yes, Doctor. It's something else, something new." Sherlock smiled like a id in a candy shop. "Let's go to their offices. John rolled his eyes following after the two. By the time the three went into a type of elevator, Sherlock's face and eyes were bright with excitement.

"Hey mate, I know you're excited but don't do the smiling at the crime scenes." John said quietly, causing Sherlock to frown slightly.

"Not good?"

"Bit not good, yeah." John said, wrapping his hand around Sherlock's. The Doctor smirked at the two and inside, his heart swelled of joy. John was exactly the type of person Sherlock needed in his life, they matched each other perfectly. He reminded himself to thank Amy for the suggestion of John Watson as they walked into Nursha's office. The door was still thrown open, a desk chair was toppled over, and picture frames were smashed on the floor. Sherlock immediately went around the room, looking at every single detail. He checked every single book and picture before heading to the desk and checking every surface.

"The killer was a friend, someone Nursha's trusted enough to let him or her just walk into the office. There's a silent alarm button on the underside of the desk, but it wasn't pressed. The killer walked in, came behind the desk, grabbed Nursha and dragged him out of the office. Nursha struggled and ended up tearing apart some of his office. The killer had strong legs and arms to be able to carry him up a flight of stairs, so it shouldn't be too challenging to find him or her."

"You don't know if it's a man or a woman? You usually can tell the gender of a person right away.

"Yes, usually John, but this is an alien species that happens to have the males and females look very similar so it's difficult for me to tell." Sherlock shrugged, before walking out and heading back to the elevator. "So he is dragged from his office and thrown off the roof by someone that he trusts. I expect to find Makerni's office in the same condition."

Sherlock was right, of course. It was clear once they reached her office, she had also fought her assailant. Sherlock searched through her office as well, and came to the same conclusion as he did with Nursha's office. When they asked the security guards for the footage of the hallways, elevators and office, they were told that the footage had all been wiped, the killers had never even showed up on the camera, as thought someone had taken early footage and put it on loop.

About an hour later, they met back up with the Ponds finding that Sherlock had been right about the victims not having any children of immediate family, but that they were married and had a wide variety of friends. Sherlock smiled before shouting "Finally! Something exciting!" while gripping John's shoulders. He placed a quick kiss on John's unsuspecting mouth, earning a wink from Rory and a whistle from Amy which made John blush violently, before running back into the TARDIS to "analyse his data".


	8. Chapter Eight

Three hours later, the five sat in the Library, Sherlock silently sprawled across a couch with his eyes closed and his hands under his chin, the Doctor pacing and muttering to himself, and Amy, Rory and John huddled together trying to put together all the facts. So far they had two lists: A list of personal facts about the victims and a list of why the victims were killed. On the first list they wrote down that Makerni and Nursha were married with no kids or immediate family, were having an affair with each other, and were wealthy. On the second list they wrote down that it was because of their affair and because they were stealing money from the businesses. Sherlock was positive the latter was correct but they needed to snoop up facts in order to prove it. But so far, they were no closer to finding the murderers or finding out why exactly they were killed.

"But I don't understand! Who would go through all the trouble of killing someone like this?" Rory question for the umpteenth time, each time earning a glare from Sherlock.

"I don't know, but there has to be something! Something we have all been missing. Something big, something obvious." The Doctor said, speaking for the first tie since they entered the Library.

"Yes, but what is it Doctor? I mean, what exactly are we dealing with here?" John said, making his way to the couch Sherlock was laying on. Sherlock's eyes popped open when John ran his hands through Sherlock's dark curls, giving him a small smile.

"Something new." Sherlock muttered, more to himself than anyone else. Before anyone could question the case further, there was a slow, hesitant knock on the TARDIS doors. The Doctor and Sherlock exchanged a glance before running from the Library, and raced their way to the Control Room, pausing to wait for their three friends to catch up before opening the door. Waiting patiently on the other side was the first officer they had spoken to, who was obviously confused as to how they all fit in such a small box. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I know, it's bigger on the inside. Why are you here?"

"There's been another murder."

\------------------

They reached the roof of the Tower Klarna Makerni had worked in, to find a woman dead on the roof. Her blue skin was quickly fading, and her hair was an off-white, stained with blood. She had strong arms and legs, and a bullet through her temple.

"What is her name?"

"Who is she?" Rory and Amy asked at the same time.

"Her name is Rolew Axetimur she is- was Klarna Makerni's assistant. And we were hoping that you could tell us who she is." Assistant. Of course.

"She is the woman who murdered Klarna Makerni. Of course she's Makerni's assistant. Someone she would trust, someone who would be in the office often, know the layout of the building and where she could hide until it was safe to leave. Oh, that's clever." The officer gave Sherlock an odd look before walking back into the building.

"Of course! And she has strong arms and legs, she fits. But why? We might never have found her, why did she kill herself? That makes no sense. And if there are two murderers, why didn't they both die? Why only her?"

"Guilt maybe? Surely you'd feel guilty too if you just off'd your boss?" Rory suggested.

"Yeah, but the Doctor has a point, where is the other murderer?"

The four of them were soon bickering over where the second murderer could be, and why Axetimur killed herself, while Sherlock paced around the body.

"Oh..of course! How could I have not seen before!" Sherlock shouted suddenly, racing back to the door

"Sherlock, wait! Where are you going?" John grabbed his arm, pulling him back slightly.

"Don't you see! The murders, the crime scenes, they're identical John! Everything in this case is exactly the same!" He ran off again, down the stairs, into an elevator and out of the tower, faintly hearing Amy and John call his name. But there was no time to explain, he had to get to the roof of the other tower before it was too late.

"Doctor, I've got to go after him! I'm sorry, I'll be right back I swear!" John made quick work of the stairs before jumping into an elevator and following Sherlock out of the tower.

"Great, just great. Where have they just gone!" Rory nervously ran his hands through his hair. He didn't like the feelings of this.

"Something is wrong, Doctor, Sherlock knows something we should be going after him!"

"It's too late, Amy, he's already in the other Tower we'll never catch up. John is with him, he will be okay." He need to think. What did Sherlock see that he didn't, what was it that he was missing? The crime scenes are identical yes, but why does that...oh.

"Oh. Oh god, I'm so blind, so stupid!" The Doctor shouted, hitting his forehead with his palm. "He was right! Of course he was right. They;re identical, every detail is exact for both murders."

"Yes, but what does that mean?"

"Oh, Amy, it means that there is going to be another crime scene, identical to this one. The second murderer is going to kill himself on the roof. And Sherlock just followed him up." The trio could do nothing but stare and watch Sherlock begin talking to the murderer on the tower opposite of them, John no where in sight.

\------------------

Sherlock had walked onto the roof less than 20 seconds after the murderer did, unseen and unheard.

"So, you killed Mr. Nursha." The man jumped back from Sherlock, pulling out a gun and aiming it at him, his hand shaking. His skin was not the rich blue that matched the other officers, and his hair wasn't a pure white. He looked faded, weak despite his physical appearance. He had strong arm's and legs, the same as Axetimur.

"Wh-who are you?"

"Oh, that hardly matters." Sherlock spoke slowly, circling around the man with his hands clasped behind his back. "Why did you kill him?"

"You don't understand! I had to kill him, I had to!" His voice wavering and Sherlock rolled his eyes. "My daughter is sick, I can't pay to help her! I thought she was going to die, see. But then He came out of no where. Said if I did Him a favour, He'd pay for he to get well again. Said He'd get her proper help. He would have me killed if I said no. Told me it had to be done exactly the way He said, though, every single detail had to be perfect."

"Yes, that's all wonderful, but why?"

"He said he needed to get someone's attention. But that's you, isn't it! That's who you are! You're the one He wants, this is all because of you!" He shouted, his nervousness rapidly turning to anger.

"Who! Who is he?" Sherlock shouted at the man, turned desperate.

"There's a name that no one says. And I'm not going to say it either." The mans voice shaking again, now unclear if it is because of anger or nerves. "I have to kill myself because of you!" He whispered, bring the gun to his temple.

Sherlock's eyes went wide as he paled. He ran forward, trying to stop him from pulling the trigger but he was too late. The gun went off, splattering the, now dead, mans blood across Sherlock's face as he sank down to his knees. He heard someone shouting his name, Amy or John or both. He couldn't tell. He felt numb, as thought there was a thick cloud separating him from the rest of the world. John's hands were suddenly on his face, his arms, his chest. John was talking, trying to get him to stand or look at him, but Sherlock found it impossible to comply.

He somewhat remembered giving a statement, listening to John re-tell the Doctor, Amy and Rory what had happened from his point of view, and being half carried, half guided back to he and Johns room in the TARDIS.

He and John might have sat there for hours, he wasn't sure, but eventually his eyes refocused and he realized that John was trying to talk to him.

"He wanted me." The sound of his voice startled him, it was quiet, harsh and broken.

"What?"

"He said it was my fault. He had to kill himself because of me."

"No, Sherlock, no-"

"Yes, John. Even if he refused he still would have been killed. All because of me."

"Sherlock, no. Please, listen to me." John whispered, kissing his palms.

"It's true, what they all say about me. The freak, the monster. That's who I am."

"Sherlock. Stop." John's voice went rough and Sherlock knew that tears were forming in those perfect green eyes but now the words were coming out and he couldn't stop them.

"It that why those people are dead, why everyone else runs from me? Because I'm the monster parents tell their children about at night?"

"Shut up! Sherlock just- just listen to me!" John screamed, anger overtaking him. "Please, Sherlock. Just please listen to me." He added in a broken whisper. "Because I can't bear to sit here and listen to you tear yourself apart like this." He took Sherlock's face in his hands, forcing their eyes to meet. "Because you are my brilliant, mad, bloody gorgeous, git of a boyfriend. You're the best person, and the most human, human being that I have ever met. And I am so in love with you, and I just want you- need you to see how truly wonderful you are! Can you do that for me? Please?" Sherlock stared down at him, awestruck.

"Did you mean that, John?" He asked quietly after a couple minutes of them just staring into each other.

"Every word."

"You actually..love me?" He whispered, his voice unusually hesitant.

"Of course I do, Sherlock. How could I not?" John smiled up at him, stroking Sherlock's cheek with his thumb.

Sherlock lightly kissed John's temple. "I..I love you too, John." John moved his hand to Sherlock's neck, and pulled him down, pressing their lips together. Each of them trying to pour every single bit of love and care into that kiss, as much as they were able. After reluctantly breaking away, John helped Sherlock up and they made their way to the bottom hammock, where they laid together for the rest of the night, talking and kissing away Sherlock's nightmares.

\------------------

"Doctor, is Sherlock going to be okay?" Amy asked, leaning against the staircase railing in the Control Room.

"Yeah, I mean, he looked a bit broken up. And he had that guys blood, like, on his face."

"Yes, yes. Of course he will. John's talking to him now. He will..He'll be fine. Of course he will. He's Sherlock Holmes." The Doctor spoke quietly, refusing to look up, and fiddled with some levers.

"Doctor, you don't look so sure." Amy grabbed his arm, spinning him around to face herself and Rory.

"Sherlock is upset right now, but he will be fine. He'll get over it. I'm not worried about that right now, what I am worried about is much, much worse."

"Why? What is it?" Rory asked.

"Someone, out in the stars, is looking for Sherlock. Trying to get his attention. And what kind of person kills four people in order to get the attention of one, human, fifteen year old boy?"

"Who?"

"A bad one. A very bad one. A monster."

"How do you know someone is looking for Sherlock?"

"Psychic paper." He took it out and showed them the messaged he received shortly after getting Sherlock down from the roof.

Why hello darling! Did you like my little game? Don't worry, we'll be playing again soon.

J. Moriarty xx

"J. Moriarty? Who's J. Moriarty?" Rory asked, tossing the psychic paper back to him.

"I don't know, but I know someone who might."

"Who, Doctor?" He turned back to Amy, a grimace on his face.

"River."


	9. Chapter Nine

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

She danced her way down each corridor and through the gates, heels echoing with every step and flashing red lights illuminating her blonde curls as she went.

"Doctor Song! Doctor River Song! You aren't authorized to just walk out of here!" She turned to see her warden, and smiled innocently at him.

"Oh, boys, I'm just popping out for some fresh air! It won't take but a minute."

"Doctor Song, we're in orbit. There's no such thing as 'fresh air' out there."

"Oh, yes. Silly me, must have forgotten again. Don't wait up for me!" She said blowing him a kiss before throwing herself out of an empty escape pod and into the waiting doors of the TARDIS.

\------------------

20 minutes earlier

 

The Doctor was in the Control Room pin-pointing River's location and Sherlock ran off to he and John's room to finish some experiments. Which left Amy, Rory, and John to settle into a cosy corner of the Library.

"So, Rory, you're a doctor, right?"

"Well, uh, no I'm a nurse right now but I'm going to be a doctor."

"Oh, well, do you like it? I mean, is it difficult?"

"Why? Do you want to be doctor John?" Amy asking, peeking up from her book.

"Yeah, I mean, I've been thinking about it. I'm actually more interested in joining the army."

"Wait, are you serious?" Rory stared at him incredulously.

"John, a solider? You realise you'd have to actually kill people! You will have to shoot them!" Amy and Rory knew they were thinking the same thing. They just couldn't see John as a soldier, he always looked so kind and innocent in his jumpers.

"I'd be a doctor! An Army Doctor, you know? I'd really only be going out as a medic and the gun would just be for extra precautions." He knew what was going through his friends minds, his mother had reacted much the same way.

"That's what you really want then? To be an Army Doctor?" John nodded and Rory was satisfied enough with the conversation to go and find himself a book.

"You'll make a brilliant doctor, John. I remember how you were with Jackson on the pirate ship, and Sherlock last night. Have you talked to him about this?"

"About being a doctor or being in the army?" She just stared at him. He knew he didn't really have to ask, it was obvious. "I mean, he'll understand right?" She just kept staring at him as Rory came and sat back down next to her. "Well think of it this way, by the time I'm deployed he'll be going to Uni! He'll have to focus on his own things, and on being a genius and solving everyone else's problems. He'll be busy with new experiments and pissing off Mycroft. Right?"

"Er, well John, I don't think Sherlock will really-" Rory and Amy jumped off the couch, and John's head snapped up, the three of them startled by a loud crash from somewhere in the TARDIS.

"John..JOHN! MY EXPERIMENT WENT WRONG. I NEED YOUR HELP!" Sherlock shouted out to him, causing John to jump up.

"Jesus..Sher- YEAH HOLD ON, I'LL BE RIGHT THERE!" He shouted back, looking between Amy and Rory before running out of the Library. "I'm sorry, we'll talk later. I've got, got to..er. Bye!" He shouted over his shoulder, stumbled over his feet slightly.

"They'll be alright. They'll be fine. Won't they? Amy?" She nodded slightly, giving him a tight smile before resting back on the couch. They relaxed slightly after a few minutes of calm and quiet, cherishing the few moments of rest they got while with the Doctor. Though it was short lasted, and they soon heard the familiar whoosh vworrrp of the TARDIS, and ran to the Control Room, arriving just before Sherlock and John did. Both of the boys were flushed and red around the lips with their fingers intertwined, earning more smirks from Amy and Rory. The TARDIS doors flew open and River gracefully fell through them and into the Doctor's arms.

"Hello sweetie." She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling. Oh, I really had been too long since she last saw him. "Hello Amy, Rory. My, Doctor, you have been busy. You must be-"

"Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes. Why are you in prison?" He asked, cutting her off, eyes narrowing.

"Oh, I nearly forgot how clever he is. Spoilers." She said with a wink. "And you are John Watson." He dropped Sherlock's hand and offered it to her, and shook hers, before putting it back into Sherlock's.

"Ah, yes, sorry. And you are?"

"Doctor River Song." Her eyes flickered over John and Sherlock, lingering slightly on their joined hands before she smiled slightly causing John to blush.

"Ah, doctor?"

"Archaeologist." She said with a smile while the Doctor rolled his eyes.

"Oh, right. But, we've never met. How exactly do you know me?"

"Time-Travel, John. It gets tricky." Sherlock explained quickly, and John nodded without really understanding.

"So, what in today's agenda? Where in time and space are we off to next?" She asked, jumping to stand then to the Doctor.

"No where. I need to ask you something." The Doctor's voice was suddenly like ice.

"And what's that, sweetie?" Behind the confusion on her face is anxiety, fear.

"Who is J. Moriarty?" he asked slowly. She paled visibly, a slight tremble starting in her fingers.

"Spoilers." She whispered stepping away from him, but the Doctor just followed her, the rest of the Control Room silent.

"No, River. You tell me. You tell me who he is!"

"I can't, you know I can't!" Her voice broke halfway through, and John stepped in.

"Wait a minute, just wait. I don't understand any of this. Why can't you tell us anything?" John said, placing himself between a now fuming Doctor and terrified River.

"I'm from the Doctors future. We're meeting in reverse order. I know his adventures and he knows mine, and sometimes we meet and have an adventure together."

"Okay, and you can't tell us about this Moriarty because you already know what's going to happen with him?" She nodded. "Right, so she can't tell us anything then."

"Yes, alright fine. Sherlock since you're so obviously dying to talk to River in private, go take a walk. John, come with me, I'll further explain River and I's..relationship. Ponds go and play!" The Doctor jumped up, goofy smile on his face again, and took John with him towards the Wardrobe. River and Sherlock went off to the Library and Amy and Rory just stayed in the Control Room, staring at the floor.

"Amy, I don't like this." Rory muttered after a couple minutes of silence.

"Oh, come on Rory, we've had worse." She laughed lightly when she said it, but she seemed to be trying to reassure herself more than Rory. She took Rory's hand in hers, rubbing circles into his wrists with her thumb.

"Amy, did you see River's face? I didn't believe that River was truly scared of anything before, I wouldn't have believed it if I wasn't right here! I mean, who is this guy? He's so awful River, of all people, is scared of him?" He whispered, pulling her tightly into his arms. She leaned into the embrace and stroked his cheek.

"Rory, we're with the Doctor and Sherlock Holmes. We'll be fine."

"Yeah, no, of course we will. You've got me, of course you'll be fine." He smiled at her and moved his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her to him until they lips met in the middle. Rory knew that no matter who or what they were up against, he would make sure Amy was safe.

\------------------

"River, where can he be found?"

"I don't know." She answered quickly. He stopped walking, grabbing her arm to that she stopped as well.

"You're from the Doctor's future, yes?" She nods. "Then you know exactly who I am. Don't try to lie to me, it doesn't work."

"Sherlock, you don't understand! You can't just go looking for Moriarty, why would you do that!"

"Because there are some things he has done that have greatly effected me. Some rather bad things."

"He's a rather bad man." Her voice was emotionless but her eyes were full of sadness, heartbreak. They stared at each other in silence. His eyes narrow as he deduces her for a third time.

"Who did he force you to kill, River?" He whispered. Her eyes widened slightly, but she held her ground.

"Spoilers." But he couldn't be fooled, not Sherlock Holmes. He looked deep inside her, finding those locked away memories that she usually kept so well hidden. He nodded slightly.

"Oh, I see. Spoilers indeed."

\------------------

"So River is.."

"From my future, yes. And I'm from hers. Why? I'm not sure yet. I met her when I wasn't me. Well, I was The Doctor, but a different one. A younger one. I was me, but I wasn't me. Do you understand?" John just stared blankly at him. The Doctor opened his mouth to explain further, but nothing came out and he just began waving his hands around. "When I first met River, I had no idea who she was and she knew everything about me. It was difficult and confusing. I found it hard to trust, still do, but it was a life or death situation. She told me what she needed to and gained my trust and then she was gone. A small time after I first met Amy, I met her again. Ever since we keep meeting. I don't know why it's like this, and she does." They walked out of the Wardrobe and slowly made they're way through the TARDIS halls as John let his words sink in.

"But who is she, Doctor? Some sort of friend, sure but who?"

"I have no idea." He muttered, not looking at John. John looked away from him and tried to figure out where they were, and was surprised when he actually knew where in the TARDIS they were walking to. Except..

"Doctor, how did we get here? Down those stairs is the Control Room, but we were on the other side of the TARDIS. We haven't been walking for that long!"

"Ah, yes. Sometimes I have Her change the walls if I need to get to a certain room."

"Change the..Why do you say her? As though she's alive?" The Doctor turned and frowned at him.

"She is alive, John. Don't you see that?"

"Well yeah, I mean she's alive I guess. But she's not real?" The Doctor was glaring at him now.

"Of course She's real! She's think you're being rude." He placed his hand on the wall, his expression akin to a fondness that was only directed to a lover. "I met Her once. Right before I met Sherlock. It was an accident, really. Her life was sucked out of Her and put into a human woman, Idris. Oh, she was good, she was very very good." He with a boyish grin, wide on his face, his hand still on he wall.

"So the TARDIS- She, was human? Did you call her Idris?" At this the Doctor looked up and down the hall quickly, blushing ever-so-slightly, leaned close to John and whispered,

"No, I called her..er, Sexy." There was a pause and then John let out a laugh, shaking his head.

"Doctor, you're in love with the TARDIS, you realise that?" John laughed lightly again when the Doctor just stuck out his tongue and murmured quietly to the wall, and walked into the Control Room to see Amy, Rory, Sherlock and River talking quietly. He joined them, leaning against Sherlock's back and tracing patterns on his back while they waited for the Doctor to return.

A few minutes later, the Doctor strolled in with a less-than-pleasant look on his face, tossed his psychic paper to Sherlock and began hitting buttons and pulling levers.

Hello Darling, hope you haven't missed me too much!

Come and play?

51.523482,-0.158167 November 1706

Don't make me wait, Sherlock.

J. Moriarty xx

"Where is that, Doctor? Where are we going?" Sherlock asked, passing around the message.

"Central London. A few miles off from where the London Eye is now." John looked up at him.

"Sorry, the London what?" Sherlock was looking at him, with similar confusion. Amy coughed softly.

"Too early Doctor, they have no clue what you're talking about."

"Right. Well its this big, er, Ferris Wheel thing in Central London. Oh forget it, you'll see it in about seven years? Yeah seven years. Anyway, Regents Park, you must know Regents park?" They both nodded. "Well, we're going a small distance from there. Hold on tight!" He shouted, and they took off.


	10. Chapter Ten

The First of November in the year 1706. It was pitch black and about 10° C, and there they stood, in the middle of what might be a street, staring at the two story building in front of them. The house was simple, but elegant and beautiful. There was a faint noise of laughter, talking. and dinner plates and silverware clinking together. Possibly music. Most likely the dinner party of a politician or person of great wealth.

"Doctor, where are we?"Amy asked, not taking her eyes off the house.

"Central London, about four miles North West of the Thames. Not sure what street though, might not even have a proper name. In a few decades, all this could be torn down."

"Torn down? But it's so beautiful, why would someone-"

"Amy shut up! Just shut up." Sherlock snapped suddenly, his eyes wide, staring at the house in disbelief. John hit his arm lightly, as a warning about being rude.

"Jeez, Sherlock! What's your problem?" Her attention broke away from the house and she now glared at Sherlock, looking about ready to give him a slap.

"No, really shut up. Please." He added quietly. "John, do you smell that."

"Smell what Sherlock, the sewage? Because that about all I can smell right now. Why?"

"Just try and smell something other than sewage. Is that scent familiar to you?"

"Er, well yeah I think I know what you mean. It smells like..like your garage! It's that same bloody awful petrol smell." River, Rory and Amy started to back away from the house and back towards the TARDIS, while the Doctor began sonicing the house, getting as close to it as her dared.

"John, Sherlock, Doctor, I think you should all back away from the house. Come on you three, get back over to the TARDIS." Rory spoke quickly and reached out to grab the Doctor away from the house.

"Rory, are you insane? There's people in there! A ton of important people and it reeks of petrol, they have no idea something like that even exists yet! We can't just leave them there!" John shouted at him, and ran to the entrance of the house.

"John, no!" Sherlock grabbed his wrist and tugged him backwards, just as the house exploded. He threw himself over John, shielding him from the heat and debris of the blast. His back was hit with some of the stonework of the house, but he ignored the pain. As long as John was safe, it didn't matter to him. But John was trying to throw him off, still trying to get to the house. He shouted at them saying that people could still be alive, shouted at Rory for being a bad nurse, shouted at Sherlock and the Doctor for not doing anything to stop it. Sherlock just held him tightly, the house in flames behind them, waiting for his rage to subside. The only sounds were the cracking of the fire and John's quiet, muffled sobs.

A blue appeared out of nowhere and shot itself into the Doctor pocket. That only meant one thing. He slowly took out his psychic paper, Amy, Rory and River reading it silently over his shoulder, before tossing it down to Sherlock.

Hello my dear! Did you enjoy that puzzle I left you? Such a cute little thing, wasn't it?

Perfectly planned, if I do say so myself. A little too easy? Maybe. But we're just getting things started, the real fun is only just beginning. Go to the Thames, on the shore is a body. You know what to do. You have twelve hours. Don't try to run off, I've planted plenty of bombs all around the city.

J. Moriarty xx

P.S. And don't forget, I'm watching you, always watching you!

He met John's eyes, seeing the tears still forming there, he suddenly felt ashamed of himself, of his talents. This had all been done because of him. Who knows how many people were in that house, but they were all dead because of him. He must not have been hiding his thoughts well because John pulled him close again, kissed his forehead and whispered, "Not you're fault. Moriarty did this. Not you." He nodded slightly in the embrace.

After several minutes, the six of them piled back into the TARDIS. Two minutes later they were piling out again, this time next to the Thames. Moriarty, of course, was right. On the shore, a man in a white wig lay dead. At a closer look, Sherlock say that the man wore a fine, navy-blue justacorp with silver stitching and patterns around the buttons, with white stockings- now caked with mud- over black breeches, and black buckled shoes. Underneath his dirtied white wig, dark brown hair poked free. He was tall, lean and drenched from head to toe. He was also wear a silver pocket watch, something rare at this time.

"He drowned, knocked unconscious and thrown into the Thames. And he was wealthy. Pocket watches like that are a luxury item in this time. From what he was wearing, he was most likely supposed to be at that dinner party, but he was intercepted and killed on the way. Why?" Sherlock circled the body, inspecting it the same way he did the three bodies on Frackshar.

"Sherlock see the ink, under his nails there? That's oil-based ink, used for newspapers. What would someone who works at a newspaper factory own these kinds of clothes and be going to that sort of party? He had to of been born into wealth."

"Yes, that's what I was thinking. Or he married into wealth, but I don't see a ring on him. Widower perhaps. He must be about 31, 32? Life expectancy around this time period was low, less than 40 years, so he could be a widower. Our best bet is to find Fleet Street, that's where the Daily Courant is. Started about four years ago." Out of the corner of his eye, Sherlock saw Rory open his mouth to say something but River shook her head at him and pulled him aside. He moved slightly closer to the Doctor and lowered his voice so the other couldn't hear him.

"Doctor, River is-"

"Yes, I noticed that too. You should have seen the look she gave Rory when he pulled me away from the house. Something is wrong there." They both looked behind them to see Amy and John talking quietly, looking between the Doctor and Sherlock, and Rory and River. Farther away, River and Rory were in a heated argument, but from that distance it was impossible to make out what they were talking about.

"What connection do they have? It's odd, I would have thought Amy to be closer to River, not Rory." Sherlock asked quietly, turned the pocket watch over in his hands.

"I'm not sure, but she trust him quite a bit. I would say brother/sister relationship but that's not quite it. She confides in him often, asks him for advice, talks to him about Amy. It's not a problem, really. It's just..curious." Sherlock nodded in acknowledgement. He popped open the watch. I was stuck on the time 11:57, so this man had died a couple minutes after this time.

"John, about what time would you say it is?" He asked over his shoulder while the Doctor continued to inspect the man's inner pockets.

"Er, well I'm not sure. About half past midnight maybe?"

"This man has been dead less than an hour then. Now we just need to figure out who he is and why he was killed." Sherlock said, walking back to the street, not bothering to wait for the others.

\------------------

The next three hours was full of walking around London to find Fleet Street. Apparently, Sherlock memorizing all of London's streets only works when they're in their own time. They couldn't just use the TARDIS because River had overridden the controls and locked herself and Rory inside. So the four of them walked, and walked until they finally found a building with a small sign that said "Daily Courant" on it. Doctor soniced the locked and within seconds they were inside the building, going through the four desks that were there. For the next four hours, they scanned every article or every newspaper that had anything to do with a mysterious death, murder, or sudden violence that was printed in the last year. So far they had put aside 17 papers, but nothing in them seemed relevant or connected. John sighed, looking around the room quickly before putting his head in his hands.

There was the rustle of a door opening, and they froze. Sherlock and John locked eyes, and John knew that Sherlock was silently screaming at himself. He hadn't thought of what would happen when someone came to work, there were four desks and the man could've have run the newspaper by himself.

"Mr. Lewin? Mr. Mallet?" A vaguely familiar, but harsh and Scottish voice cut through the silence. The Doctor and Sherlock eyes widened, surprisingly hopeful as a man shuffled through the door. He is tall and lean, there was a slight beard along his chin and surrounding his mouth, the colour matching his mildly-tamed auburn curls. He wore simple brown trousers, a beige button down, and a brown, leather satchel. But his face, he was so familiar, John was sure he had seen him before.

"Victor?" Sherlock whispered, breaking the silence, a small smile growing on his face.

\------------------

"River, I need you to explain again what exactly is happening and why you've locked us inside the TARDIS. Because this makes no sense." Rory said, following River around the Controls.

"Rory, why did Amy and the Doctor come for you?"

"Because, uh, they said they would. They had Sherlock and John, and John asked who I was and so they came and got me."

"Did they come and get you, or come and see you? There's a difference."

"Okay, well they came and I met them. I talked to Sherlock and John for a little while but then we split up. They went for a walk, and me, Amy, and The Doctor went for dinner."

"But you went with them afterwards. Why?"

"What do you mean, why? I did because I did."

"No, Rory, why. Why did you go with them. You didn't plan on going back with them, not yet at least. So why did you."

"Well. I'm not sure, I wasn't supposed to. We just ended up back in the TARDIS and I went with them. Why is it important?"

"Because, some one is rewriting events that have to happen a certain way. These crime scenes revolving Sherlock are fixed points in time. There are things that have to happen, and you and I, we're not meant to be a part of it." She stopped suddenly, turning to look at him. "I'm sorry, Rory. But this has to be done. And I don't know how long it will last. I hope you don't mind being stuck in a locked room with me for a while."

\------------------

"Sherlock?" Victor shouted, quickly enveloping Sherlock in a quick hug. "Doctor? Where is..Amy! Oh, and John too! You're alright then? I was worried for a while but I knew that you were in good hands."

"Victor, what are you doing here!"

"What am I doing, I work here! What are you doing here?"

"We're- wait, you work here? Who else works here? You called for a Mr. Lewin and a Mr. Mallet, they work here with you?" Amy asked, looking back at the newspapers in her hand, searching for their names.

"Well, yes. Mr. Lewin is usually here by now. Mr. Mallet only comes in at mid-week."

"Describe him. Mr. Lewin." Victor looked between them, confused.

"Well, he's rather wealthy. Tall. Sort of slim. He writes most of the eulogies and articles on violence, crimes, or deaths. Why is it important?" Victor said slowly, still confused.

"Which desk is his? Which one!" Sherlock demanded. Victor's eyes went wide, startled by his sudden anger, and pointed to the desk closest to Amy. Sherlock ran to it, ripping out every drawer and tossing out the contents until he found was he was looking for.

"This one, it's got a faux bottom. He knew he was being watched." Sherlock removed the faux bottom, revealing eight newspapers, opened to certain pieces, with notes taped to certain articles. He handed two newspapers to Amy, two to John and two to the Doctor, before going into the back room, taking Victor and the last two newspapers with him.

"Sherlock, where is Mr. Lewin? What do you mean he's being watched?" Victor asked quietly once they were alone.

"He's dead. He was killed because of something that he has been writing about." Victor went quiet, and Sherlock gave him the time to mourn his co-worker. He went through every article in the two papers, reading each note connected to certain articles. There were four articles total that connected back to a man named Anthony Jackills. This Anthony Jackills was no doubt the head of a crime circle who found out that Lewin was making the connections between the crimes and deaths. Sherlock looked to Victor, about to share his discovery, but Victor was staring off at the wall opposite him. He was still mourning. John would have said something helpful, took his mind off it, that's what Sherlock should do.

"Victor, why do you work here?" Victor's eyes snapped to him.

"Well, I already knew how to read and write, see. My father was an educated man. He wanted me to be the same. But he tried to force me into a marriage I didn't want to go through with, so I ran away. Met Jack a few months later and we got on real well. He asked if I wanted to join his crew and I went with him. I was just a boy then, only sixteen. I only stayed with Jack for four years. After you lot came, everything changed for me. I realised I didn't want to live that life any more, asked Jack to bring me here. He wasn't happy to see me off, but he understood at least. I came here, met Mr. Lewin and he gave me work." Victor's eyes wandered around the room before locking onto Sherlock's. "You look the same, haven't aged a day. Didn't think I'd ever see you again." He added quietly.

"I've aged several, actually." Sherlock joked. "You weren't supposed to. I don't know why this happened."

"I'm glad it did." Victor lowered his gaze to Sherlock's lips, moving closer. Sherlock tried to move away, but Victor was so close now, their noses nearly touching.

"Victor, don't..please." No, don't Victor. Please, don't. I only want John. I already have John. But Sherlock's mouth wasn't working, no words came out.

"Shh, don't be scared." Victor pressed his lips their lips again, closing his eyes. Sherlock's eyes went wide, his hands clenched the newspapers he was holding, his mind was racing. This wasn't okay. This wasn't John. Sherlock stilled, hoping it would make Victor stop, but it just encouraged him to take things further.

Victors hand on his face, his neck, his back. No, stop. This wasn't what I want. Please, I only want John. And this wasn't John, this was torture. This was suffocating him. Sherlock's fingers twitched, wanted to throw Victor off but knowing he didn't have the strength to push him off fully.

Amy's laughter filled the air, two pairs of footsteps followed, becoming louder with each step.

"Sherlock listen to what Jo-"

"Oi! Get the bloody hell off my boyfriend!" John shouted, ripping Victor off Sherlock. "What the hell Sherlock?" Sherlock stared at him, mouth hanging open but making no sound. John's entire body was radiating hatred, anger, betrayal. But his eyes were swimming with tears, full of hurt. He turned, and ran out of the room, taking Amy with him.

Victor looked to Sherlock with wide eyes.

"You two are, were..?" Sherlock nodded, numbly sitting down. "Sherlock, I'm sorry. I didn't know, I didn't mean to. I'm sorry." Sherlock nodded again before leaving the room. Victor didn't follow.


	11. Chapter Eleven

John, dragging Amy along, stormed back to where the Doctor sat, with Sherlock following. After a few minutes of John ignoring Sherlock's eyes he moved to stand in the corner of the room, using Amy as a sort of shield.

"Anthony Jackills. He killed Mr. Lewin. The articles are connected to him, in one way or another. Jackills threatened Lewin but when Lewin refused to stop printing the articles, he killed him. Doctor, I'm sure you've come up with a similar conclusion." Sherlock said quietly, never taking his eyes off John, but it was Amy who stared back at him. The Doctor looked between the three, feeling the tension.

"Yes, I did." A blue light appeared and zoomed into the Doctor's pocket. He took out the Psychic paper, handing it to Sherlock.

Oh, very good! I do love watching you work everything out in that brilliant mind of yours! Too bad about little Victor Trevor. Johnny here mucks up your mind enough, you don't need another one to add to your problems. Don't worry my dear, I'll take care of it. 51.523482,-0.158167 July 9th 1890.

Don't keep me waiting, darling.

J. Moriarty xx

"Victor." Sherlock breathed out, as a gun shot rang through the building. The four of them ran to the back room, finding Victor Trevor, dead on the floor, a bullet through his head.

\------------------

They made their way back to the TARDIS, Amy explaining what had happened to the Doctor. John walked ahead of them and Sherlock trailed behind them, both lost in their thoughts. When they finally got back to the TARDIS, the Doctor warily walked to the door. He closed his eyes and snapped, the doors flinging open. The moment the four were inside, the doors shut and a hologram of River, with Rory standing behind her, appeared.

"Emergency Interphase Number 3122" Filled the air and River started talking, her voice shaking slightly.

"Hello Sweetie. You don't trust me right now, but that doesn't matter. I can't explain right now and I may never be able to. But this message is for you, Sherlock. I know that things have been difficult for you and I'm sorry to say, it's not going to be getting any easier any time soon. I only have one piece of advice for you: John. John is the most important thing you have. Keep him close, always. Don't ever lose him." At this, John barked out a bitter laugh before storming out of the Control Room, Sherlock's eyes following him out before flickering back to River. "You need to understand that. I'm sorry if that's not helpful right now, but it will be. You are now aware of the crime scenes Moriarty has set up for you. Each crime scene is a fixed point in time, everything has to happen that way, no matter what. But someone is trying to rewrite what happens, and doing so is too dangerous for the entire universe. Rory was never meant to be at Frackshar, and I was never meant to be here, but we are. I have set up a time-locked room. It will only unlock after a specific time and date, and no sweetie, you can't disable it. Inside there, we will be perfectly safe." She turned back to Rory. "If there's anything you need to say, now is the time to do it." Rory cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"Er, Amy. I'm sorry. I'm not sure what's going on or what's going to happen. But I will soon you soon, probably. And I love you. Be safe." River stepped forward again.

"I'm sorry my love." And then they disappeared. Amy walked forward slowly with tears in her eyes.

"Doctor, what did they mean? How long with they be gone? Where is he, where's Rory?"

"Amy, they never left. They're here, on the TARDIS. I have no control over this, I can't even see where the room is. I'm sorry, we just have to trust River and wait." Amy nodded slightly, calming herself down. The Doctor spun around the controls, punching in the coordinates, and gave Amy a worried glance nodded at Sherlock, who sat in the chair closest to him, his face blank and his eyes unfocused.

\------------------

John slammed the door to the room he and Sherlock shared. He looked around the room, finding that it had split itself in two; the hammocks were now two identical beds placed in the corners of opposite wall, John's medical equipment next the the one on the left, Sherlock's miniature lab next to the other. He sat on his bed, leaned against the wall, and put his face in his hands, thinking over the events of the last few hours. After a small while, there was a quiet knock on the door, before it creaked open.

"John? Mind if I come in?" Amy asked quietly. Her eyes were rimmed with red and John felt a wave of guilt.

"Yeah, Amy of course. I'm sorry for leaving before..I should've stayed. Where's River and Rory?" He asked, patting the space next to him for her to sit.

"They're okay, they're somewhere in the TARDIS. River said something about fixed points in time and that her and Rory aren't meant to be a part of it. I don't know when I'll see him again." She said hopping onto the bed. "I see the Doctor rearranged the room. Do you think this'll make it easier? Not being so close to him?"

"Amy, please I don't want to talk about it right now."

"John, listen, just give him the chance to explain!"

"Explain what! I saw it happen, so did you! He was kissing someone else!"

"Actually I don't think so. It looked more like Victor kissing him and Sherlock's just standing there like a dead fish." She said with a quiet huff. "John, listen things like this happen. I kissed the Doctor once." John stared at her with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"You did not."

"I did!" She said smiling. "Night before me and Rory's wedding, the Doctor showed up and we flew off. After two days with him, I had him take me back to tell him that I was getting married to Rory, show him the dress and all that. I ended up shoving him against the TARDIS and snogging him."

"What'd he do?"

"He was kinda surprised by it really, but after the initial shock he pushed me off and said something about 'regenerating not dying' and how I was marrying Rory. He threw me back in the TARDIS, picked up Rory and dropped us off for a romantic get away in Venice, 1580. It was nice until we decided to sacrifice me to these weird alien vampires that tried to kill me, but it was all fine."

"You're kidding?"

"I'm not! They were these weird fish vampire things. Rory tried to fight one with a mop, started insulting it's mum and all that." She said, causing them to go into a laughing fit.

"How did you know? How did you choose?" He asked quietly.

"He died. Rory died a couple days later." She said simply. "I found out the hard way that I can't live without him. Don't make my mistake. Give him the chance to explain." John nodded slightly before Amy gave him a quick hug and left the room.

\------------------

Twenty minutes later they were gathered in front of the TARDIS, standing in front of 212 Baker Street.

"Alright. Okay. What are we standing here f-Oh God!" John's question ended in a shout as the building in front of them exploded. The Doctor and Amy turned into the side of the TARDIS and Sherlock threw himself in front of John. A blue light flew into the Doctor's pocket and he tossed the psychic paper to Sherlock.

Oh darling, how wonderful was that? 214 Baker Street, 1st floor parlour.

This one is easy; I'll give you two hours. Oh, and Doctor? Let's

allow Sherlock to solve this one by himself, shall we? Have fun!

J. Moriarty xx

"Right. Onto it then?" John said, clearing his throat as Sherlock awkwardly leapt off of him, each with a slight blush.

"I really hope no one was in there." Amy muttered as they walked the short distance of two houses to the right. "Wait, Doctor, this is the house. The one that blew up last time. They rebuilt it."

"Yes. They did. It's a lovely sight, isn't it? Well, the outside at least. I can't say I'm looking forward to seeing what's inside."

They were lead into the house by a Charles Beckerman. He was tall and muscular, with light skin, dark hair, and dark eyes. His face was blank but his eyes were rimmed with red from crying and he had his coat hastily thrown over his dressing gown and night clothes.

In the 1st floor parlour was a woman sitting in a light blue arm chair that was angled toward the marble fireplace. From behind, she could have simply been asleep or relaxing by the fire but unfortunately, that was not the case. Sherlock moved to stand in front of her and was slightly surprised with the peaceful and almost innocent expression on her face. Her blue lids were closed, not in fright but relaxation; her ruby-painted lips twisted into a slight smile. While the entire room was decorated with a startling shade of scarlet, her armchair was a design of varying shades of blues and creams, very nearly matching the light shades of blue in her dress. She wore a gleaming pearl necklace, diamond earrings, and a brooch matching the blue's of her dress. But the way she sat in her chair, the flames giving a faux warmth to her cold, pale skin, made her look as though she was a porcelain doll with no other purpose that to look beautiful.

Or she would, if it wasn't for the fact that someone pierced a dagger directly through her heart. The elegant blue dress was ruined by the stain of red that had just barely stopped pouring out of the wound.

"Charles was it? And you're her husband no doubt. What is her name and how long have you known about her string of lovers?" Sherlock asked with a pleasant- and fake- smile. John stepped forward to stop him, but Sherlock waved out a hand stopping him.

"Ah, her name is Elizabeth and I beg your pardon, I must be mistaken but I thought you just asked how long I have known about her string of lovers." Sherlock circled around the man twice and stared him in the face for one long minute before declaring the man an idiot and storming from the room in search of is son. John stifled a laugh as Charles went red and skulked out of the room.

Ten minutes later Sherlock re-entered the parlour with a boy nearly twice his size in tow. While he had his father's body, he had his mothers blond curls and porcelain skin.

"You. Name?" Sherlock asked harshly and the boy opened his mouth to answer. "No, wait. Let me guess. Charles? It's Charles isn't it? But you're still just a boy, only sixteen; probably hate the name, hate the thought of being like your father and the expectations that come along with it. Charlie then. Your mother is sitting here dead, yet you're completely unaffected. Why?" But when Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he advanced on the boy, the Doctor cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"Charlie was it? Hello, I'm the Doctor, this is Amy and John. How about you tell us about your mum?" Charlie nodded and looked nervously at the four of them, the Doctor and Amy giving him encouraging but sympathetic smiles, Sherlock glaring coldly at him, and John was just staring at him with a knowing look.

"She is- was nice, has- no, sorry had, a good amount of friends. She-"

"Yes, no one cares. If you don't want to hear what your mother was really like, leave." Charlie, looked up at Sherlock with wide, startled eyes before going to hide in the far corner the room.

"Sherlock, you can't do things like this." Amy muttered, John sighing from behind her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, are the boys feelings" He spat the word out with a look of disgust, "a priority right now, or is finding out who murdered his mother so that the city doesn't blow up in less than two hours?" He ignored the looks John, Amy, and the Doctor gave him as he walked back to the dead woman. "This Elizabeth, grew up wealthy and she wanted to stay that way, no doubt why she married that moron. She has an alcohol dependency and is a serial adulterer. She has three flings right now; two woman, one man."

"How do you-"

"How do I know? It's quite obvious John, even you would be able to know that if you just looked! Brooch, earrings, necklace; none of them matching each other but the brooch and earrings matching the blues on the dress. If they were from the same person, they would be a set. How do I know it's not from her husband? He put a ring on her finger, provided her with a home and most likely this dress, among many others; that's good enough for him. How do I know it's two women and one man? Only a woman of this time period would think to get jewellery to match a dress like this, also giving me reason to believe that a good amount of this woman's dresses are blue. Moving on, her eyes are closed and her face is relaxed. Someone who she's close to came up behind her, was talking to her, before taking the dagger and shoving it through her heart. The killer was tall, strong, and was angry."

"So it was the husband then?" Amy asked slightly confused. The Doctor shook his head at her but kept silent.

"What? No, no. Forget him, he's a moron. Not a lover, not a close friend."

"Sherlock." John said quietly but Sherlock continued on.

"I would say relative of a lover but no, this is a crime of passion."

"Sherlock." Louder this time, but still ignored.

"Whoever it was must have found out about her affairs, but who would get angry enough to kill over it?"

"Sherlock!" John all but shouted it this time, and Sherlock's mouth finally closed, looking at John with a slight look of surprise. "Charlie, Sherlock. It was Charlie." Amy gaped at him as the other three looked to the corner where Charlie was sitting, but he was gone.


End file.
